No Sun Under the Horizon
by Lauretta92
Summary: Future fic - After a mission in the Middle-East goes terribly wrong, Molly is flown back to the UK with severe injuries. But it isn't the psychical injuries that are slowly destroying her, getting inside her head. Will her relationship with the handsome Captain survive this? Or will she move on in a different direction without him?
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry, I really couldn't help myself. You'll have to blame my muse for this story. It was just a storyline that popped into my head yesterday. This is a bit more angstier than I usually write, so don't expect them all lovey dovey in this story (sorry in advance haha). **

**And don't worry, I won't forget the one shots of "Time of Our Lives". I will try and update that as much as I can, but my main focus will be on this story.  
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**I hope you'll like it. Enjoy :)**

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><p>"Come on, recruit", captain Charles James yelled at the young man, who was in his second week of basic training. "Put some bloody effort in!" The man was clearly exhausted from the first part of the assault course that he didn't have it in him to finish it.<p>

"The enemy is approaching, shooting at you and the platoon!" He said, clapping his hand together to motivate the recruit before him. He used to be one of them so many years ago, being yelled at in the same way he was doing. Oh, how he could have killed those sergeants and corporals of Sandhurst back in the day, for not emphasizing with him and look at him now.

"The enemy is closing in. Fucking run!", he yelled. The young man looked at him for a brief moment before climbing over the improvised wall and continuing the rest of assault course. He was about to yell at the recruit some more, when one of the other recruits was running towards him.

"Captain James!", he screamed at the top of his lungs. "There is someone on the phone for you." He handed the phone to him, before turning around, leaving him with this communicative device in his hands.

He put the phone to his ear, not giving in on the nagging feeling he had in his stomach. His gut was telling him that the person on the other side of the line was about to give him some bad news regarding his girlfriend. "Captain James", he said, his voice stern and diplomatic. Well, that was what Molly said when she overheard him talk to some of his superiors.

"Captain James, this is major Carter from camp Fulmand." The nagging feeling he had slowly became bigger, like an avalanche rolling down the mountain, getting bigger and bigger on its journey to the valley. "I'm afraid I have some bad new regarding private Dawes."

Slowly, he felt the blood drain from his face, leaving behind an empty place which could only be filled by the loving touch of his girlfriend. "What about her?", he asked, the worry taking over his voice, making it quiver.

"She has been terribly injured during an military operation."

"What?", he asked in disbelieve. Molly was injured?

"She has just been out of theatre. We are monitoring her here for a couple of days, before she is send to Birmingham."

Suddenly the grounds of Sandhurst were getting vage, blurred even. The only thing he could focus on were the words coming from the major on the other side of this phone. How could this happen? This was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be walking into the hall at Brize Norton, leeping into his arms, staying there forever.

He cleared his throat. "How is she doing?"

He heard the major sighting before he said: "She is kept in an induced coma so that her body can solely focus on the recovering process. She has a large wound on the head and abdomen. She also has a few broken ribs and some scratches on her arms and legs."

He swallowed, trying to control the lump that was forming in his throat. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. "When will she be back in the UK?", he asked after a few moments of silence that the major had given him to digest the information.

"We don't know for sure, captain", he said. "But don't expect it to be any sooner than the end of the week. The hospital will inform you if she has arrived."

"Thank you, major", he said in his usual diplomatic manner, after he finally gained control of his emotion again.

"The best of luck to you, captain." With these words the major disconnected the connection.

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><p><em>The warmth of the sun reached her still pale skin, this time its solar radiation not being tucked away by the large amount of clouds. She was wandering over the bright green pastures of a land she had yet to identify. Feeling the wet grass under her feet, she slowly moved forward.<em>

_In the distant she noticed a little house standing there, only being surrounded by the same, large pasture she was currently in. She made her way towards the house, her curiosity leading the way. She started to accelerate her movement, eventually running across the green field consisting of grass and the occasional daisies. The white, ankle length dress fluttering behind her, making her look like an angel from above._

_When she finally reached the small, old looking house she saw a person standing in front of the door. When she blinked a couple of times, trying to sharpen her blurry field of vision. She identified the person standing there, dressed in a smart looking shirt and neat trousers as the person she had lost so many years. That person who had become so dear to her, conquering a place in her heart. That person turned around, his eyes finally meeting hers. _

"_Smurf?", she said in disbelieve. She took a few steps forward, not daring herself to come any closer than she already had. "Is that really you?" _

"_Molls", he said, smiling. _

_Before she could understand what she was doing, she launched herself into his arms, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, not baring to think of letting go. "I'm so glad I found you. I thought I was alone in here." _

"_You're never alone, Molly." _

_She let go of him, finally letting herself look into his incomprehensible eyes. The final look those eyes ever gave her never once forgotten. "But you can't stay here", he said. _

"_What?" _

"_You have to go back." _

_Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes. "I ain't ever wanna feel pain again, Smurf." Slowly a tear fell down her cheek. "It's killing me." _

"_You won't find peace here." _

_She swallowed. "Where do I have to go then?" _

_He took her hand in his, but not before putting a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go back to the captain. Go back to him."_

"_But", she stuttered. "But how?" _

_Smurf didn't answer her question. He simply looked at her, giving her a look that was so familiar to her. He had given her that look when they had their talk in the hospital when they saw captain James being wheeled in after surgery. "Will he help me with that?" _

_Slowly, the image of Smurf was fading away, vanishing before her eyes and there was nothing she could do about it. "Smurf!", she yelled, trying to reach him, trying to feel his comforting arm around her, like he always had her back. But he was fading away too fast. She couldn't reach him, she simply couldn't. _

"_Smurf!", she tried one more time, but he was gone. She looked around her, expecting Smurf to just show himself, like he was hiding around the corner just to annoy her. But he never came. He was gone, really gone and never coming back. _

_She swallowed, taking in the image of the large green pastures around her. She was alone. She was utterly and completely alone. How was she going to find the strength to return to her captain? Get him to help her stop feeling this aching pain in her heart? _

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><p>With the now empty cup of coffee in his hand he walked towards the ICU ward of the Queen Elizabeth hospital, throwing the cup in the first bin he could find. It had been a few days since they airlifted Molly from camp Fulmand back to the United Kingdom. She had been in a coma ever since, with him being there every minute of every day, hoping deep down that she would come back to him. She had promised him once to come back to him, and she did. But did she have it in her to do it one more time? Come back to him. Only him.<p>

He took a seat on one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of the Molly's room, before massaging his temples. Her mother Belinda was currently with her and he wanted to give the woman the time she needed with her daughter. After he had received that bloody phone call from major Carter he had driven back to London to break the news of Molly's condition to her parents. He had delivered bad news before, but never once was he involved like in this situation.

His trail of thoughts was interrupted when he heard a soft bang, indicating that the door of the room was being closed. Belinda stood there for a moment, trying to collect herself, control her emotions. The traces of the tears that had been shed inside that god awful room still visible on her face. Silently she took a seat beside him. For a few moments there wasn't a need to exchange words. They just had to sit there, accompanied by the silence between them.

"What's gonna happen to her?", Belinda asked, breaking the silence between them.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Next week the doctors are stopping the drugs that are keeping this way, hoping that she'll wake up by herself."

"And what if she doesn't?"

"I don't know", he said, before sighting. "I really don't know."

She put a hand on her shoulder, not before squeezing it in a encouraging manner. "It must be hard on you."

"Yeah", was the one syllable he used to answer to her words. "But it must be even harder on you seeing your daughter here."

Belinda removed her hand from his shoulder and broke eye contact, her glance fixed on the room currently occupied by the private that was very dear to them both. "Yeah", she simply said.

"You know", he said, a small smile appeared on his face. It didn't stay there for very long, since it wasn't appropriate to smile in a situation like this. "It sounds so stupid right now."

Belinda looked at him again. "What is it?", she asked.

"I was actually planning on asking her to marry me after this tour."

"Oh, sweetheart", Belinda said, before pulling him into her warm embrace. Finally he led himself tear down the wall he surrounded himself with. Finally letting himself go. It had been a long time since he actually cried in the presence of a person.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Let me know what you think. A review would be lovely, as always! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, this sort of happened. When I started writing this chapter, I had no idea it would be this long. I hope you guys don't mind. **

**And thank you all who reviewed last chapter. If I had the time to thank you each personally, I would have. But they are much appreciated :) They keep me writing! So thanks for that!**

**Well, I hope you'll enjoy this extra long chapter..**

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><p>"<em>Go back to the captain", Smurf said. "Go back to him."<em>

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><p>The rain was tapping against the window next to him, accommodate the hospital room with the light it needed. He leaned his head against the cream colored wall of the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Birmingham. It had been two days since they had stopped the drugs that were keeping Molly into the induced coma. He wanted to see her beautiful eyes, a mixture of the colors green and brown. The colors that reminded him of the forest, which always seemed to calm him down.<p>

In those two days he never left her bed side, even getting into arguments with the doctors and nurses until they simply decided to let him occupy the chair opposite of her. Sometimes he would sit there for what seemed like hours, running his hand through her hair, feeling the soft skin of her face touching his. She looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, not knowing the gravity of her injuries and what they had done to her, but also the people who loved and cared for her.

What had happened to her? It had been a question that had been hunting him for the past week. He was told by the doctor that she had been shot in the stomach and severely beaten on the head. The doctor even said he noticed some wounds who looked very suspicious and made him think that she was being tortured for a couple of hours. He couldn't bare thinking about someone laying a hand on his Molly, wanting to harm her, the person most dear to him.

He pressed his lips together, looking at the person laying in the bed. The only thing moving was her chest, breathing in the air provided inside this hospital. He moved towards her, sitting on the side of bed, taking her hand into one of his. The other hand wandered across her face, eventually touching her beautiful lips, who made him feel so whole, so complete when they were pressed on his. "Come back to me", he whispered. "You promised to come back."

He swallowed before continuing: "I can't live without you, my darling." He caressed her cheek in the same manner he once did in the hospital of camp Bastion, where he had touched her face for the very first time. "I love you. God, I love you."

Suddenly he felt her hand move inside of his. She blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the light that had been in contrast with the darkness she surrounded herself with in the past week. Eventually she opened her eyes, looking around her, probably trying to identify the place she was in right now.

Her glance wandered across the room, eventually settling on her arm. When she noticed the IV attached to her lower arm and not a few moments later also noticing some wires attached to her upper stomach and upper arm. He looked into her eyes again, only this time he wasn't met with the calming color of the forest he longed for. He was met the fast movements of trees, pulling at their branches, caused by the storm. He was met with fear.

"Get it off me", she said, the volume of her voice so low that it came out as a whisper.

"Get them off", she said a little louder, the fear spreading across the rest of her body, taking control over it. She wrested her hand out of his, trying to get all the wires attached to her at the moment.

She looked at him. "Get them off me. Charles, get this out of me!", she pleaded.

He tried to move towards her, not knowing what to do than to simply hold her, tell her she was safe and that no-one was going to hurt her. He wouldn't let anyone lay one hand, let alone a finger on her.

In the corner of his eyes he saw a nurse rush into the room, trying her best to calm Molly down. "Private", she said, her hands catching that of the patient in front of her, making sure she wouldn't pull out her IV. "Calm down. You need to calm down."

He sat himself down on the bed again, wrapping his arms around, hoping it would calm her down. The fear had taken over her body, her everything on such a level that she started to quiver. Tears started to steam down her face, dripping rhythmically on the blankets in front of her. "Molly, you need to calm down", he attempted, but failed.

Molly shook her head, indicating she wasn't calming down until the wires were out of her. "Molls", he said softly. "You need the morphine, darling. You'll be in a lot of pain if they take them out."

She looked at him in the same way a little girl would look at her father while being incredibly scared. Her fear was a lot deeper than just the fear of needles. Something had happened to her out there which made her fear everything that was related to wires or needles.

"I don't want to", she whispered.

"You're really going to need it."

"Don't make me", she pleaded, her eyes filling themselves with tears, eventually streaming down her face again. "Please, don't make me."

He swallowed and made a decision. "Nurse", he addressed the professional in the room. "Get them out."

"But-", she began to protest.

"I don't care what you have to say", he said, his face stern and serious. If the nurses weren't getting the wires out, he would personally make sure to take them out by himself, even though he didn't have the knowledge how to do it correctly. Molly was consumed by fear at the moment and this was the only to make it go away. Even if it was temporarily. "Get them out!", he ordered.

The nurse didn't say anything. She simply started to move all the wires. The more she removed, the calmer the woman in his arms got. Her gasping breath from only a few moments ago, started to decreasing into normal, frequent movements.

What the hell happened to her out there?

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><p>He closed the door behind him, before sinking into one of the chairs the hallway contained. He let out a sight he had been holding ever since he was in the room. This whole situation, everything.. He really didn't know how to deal with it. He wanted nothing more than to take the pain, the fear Molly carried away, but he simply couldn't. He didn't know how.<p>

It wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with PTSD before. He had seen it so many different times amongst his fellow soldiers, even experienced it himself when he came back from his first tour. But he hadn't seen anyone in the same state as Molly was in right now. He had read something about these kind of cases, but he never though he would have to deal with those so close to home.

Movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He turned around and saw his younger sister of two years walking into the ward. She was casually dressed in jeans and a black and white checked shirt. The soles of her black leather ankle boots made a unusual sound on the hospital floor. When she had reached his position and sat down next to him, he asked her: "What are you doing here?"

His sister breathed in. "Just wanted to check on my sister in law. How is she?"

"Bad. Really bad." He made eye contact with his sister, hoping that his look would tell the things he couldn't form into the appropriate words. "Doctor is examining her right now."

He kept his gaze fixed on his younger sister. There was something different about her. The way she was staring at the curtains of Molly's room, avoiding eye contact. He had known his sister for a very long time and he could tell when something was off or when something was bothering her. "You know something, don't you", he stated.

She turned around, meeting his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Don't bullshit me, Nat. Is there something I should know?", he questioned her, observing her face very closely, trying to detect something that was out of the ordinary, hoping he could find the answer within them.

When she didn't answer his question, he continued: "You know what happened out there."

Now it was her turn to sight. "I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Sorry, brother", she said apologetic. "Official Secrets Act. It's classified." So, he could deduce from his sister's responses that Molly was part of a very secret mission. Something so big that they had to send his sister as part of the joint operation. He didn't know exactly what his sister did for a living, only that she was part of some anti-terrorism taskforce, catching terrorists all over the world.

Slowly, he felt the anger rise inside of him. He hated this, the answers she was giving him. All he wanted to know, was what happened to his girlfriend so he could help her during the recovery. He was about to say something, when the doctor exited the room, immediately followed by the nurse that had been assisting him.

Charles stood up from the chair to face the doctor, followed by his sister as well. "How is she?"

The doctor cleared his throat, looking at the medical chard one more time before he said: "She will stay here until she's out of the danger zone, so to speak. The first 48 hours are critical, since there is still a chance of internal bleeding. After that we'll move her to a regular ward until she'll be fit enough to recover at home."

"What about the IV?", he asked, ignoring the questioning look his sister was giving him.

"We're using fentanyl patches to make sure she doesn't feel any pain. However those take some time before they start working, unfortunately. Morphine through IV works faster, since it goes straight in the arteries. But we can't risk a repeat of this morning."

"I understand", Charles said, folding his arms simultaneously. "When will she be moved to the regular ward?"

"We'll monitor her the next 48 hours. After that we'll see what's going to happen." The doctor paused for a moment, adjusting his glasses. "I think it's best you go in there, captain. She's going to need you", he continued.

Charles gave the doctor one of his polite smiles. "Thank you, doctor." The doctor simply nodded before he started to walk away, eventually disappearing into one of the other rooms.

"You go in there. I'll just go to the cafeteria", she said, pointing her thump in the direction of the doors. "I'll come back later."

He didn't reply to his sister's words, simply moved forwards. He opened the double doors and took a seat on the chair he had been occupying since she was brought here. He tried to take her hand into his, but when both of their hands touched one another, she flinched. For a few seconds he detected the fear he had seen this morning. He retreated his hand to his laps, while he folded his hands together.

"How are you?", he asked.

She replied, not even once looking at him. "In pain."

"The doctor said it takes time for the patches to work."

"I know."

Silence reigned the small hospital room. He didn't know what exactly to say to her right now. To make her come back to him. Psychically she was present in the room, laying across from him in the hospital bed, but mentally she wasn't there. The Molly he said goodbye to before she went on her third tour was gone and he didn't know how to bring her back.

Eventually she dared herself to look at him. He was met with the scary, little girl's eyes he saw when she was freaking out about the wires. "Can you call my mum? I want my mum."

"Yeah, sure", he said, not wanting to argue with her when she was in this state. "I'll call her now." Not waiting for her reply he stood up, also making his way towards the exit.

He was losing her. She was putting up the walls he wasn't familiar with. She always came to him when she needed someone to talk to. But now she had build these indestructible walls around her and he didn't have it in him to break them. He simply didn't have the power and energy to do it.

He sighed. Would she ever come back to him?

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? A review would be the icing on the cake (well, sort of haha). <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Another chapter for my lovely readers. I hope you'll like it! **

**And thank you for all who have reviewed the last chapter. The response is still very overwhelming. And for the ones who commented, saying it was very emotional and intense. I should warn you that you'll need lots and lots of tissues to make it through the end of the story… (tiny, very tiny spoiler alert haha).**

**Anyway, enjoy :)**

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><p><em>[Flashback]<em>

_She tightened her grip around the weapon she was currently holding. She looked around, trying to see if she spotted something out of the ordinary. The sun was burning on the fabric of her uniform, beads of sweat were dripping down her face. She wiped off the remnants on her face, momentarily letting go of the lethal weapon in her hand. _

_One foot before the other. The soles of her army boots made a cracking noise when the small rock's of the desert were being crushed under her feet. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't ignore the feeling she got in her stomach. It was quiet, too quiet for her liking. Something was off. Something just didn't feel right and she had learned in her first tour that a gut feeling was usually right. So, she was prepared when or if the ambush would come. _

_All of a sudden her section was getting shot at. Bullets were flying around. "Take cover!", the captain of her section yelled, gesturing for them to run to ditch only a few meters away. She aimed her rifle at the top of the mountains where she thought the shots were fired from. The rest of the platoon also ran towards the ditch, trying to take cover. _

"_We have contact", the captain reported, saying the words into the radio the was carrying. "I repeat, we have con-" The captain couldn't finish his words, bullets hit his body, throwing him to the ground, fast. _

"_Sir!", she yelled, running towards the body of the captain. "Man down! Man down!" _

_She knelt down next to him. The captain was hit in the neck, very close to the carotid artery. Blood was pumping out of his body fast, streaming down on the dirty surface of the Syrian desert. The bright red color of fresh blood mixed with the orange, powdery substance of the Middle East wilderness. He was losing too much blood too fast. _

_She put her rucksack, completely stacked with medical supplies she would need to save lives, down on the ground and ripped it open. At the same time she tried her best to put on her blue gloves as fast as she could. "Sir, stay with me", she said, emotions taking over the stability of her voice. _

_She got the bandages out of the bag and pressed it against the still open wound. Bullets were still flying around her, but she had something else to focus on. She was the medic. She was supposed to save the lives of her comrades. And here before her was a man lying there, fighting for his life, the blood that kept him alive was leaving his body in an ungodly speed. _

"_Come on, captain", she tried to encourage him. "Stay awake for me just a little longer." _

_Slowly, the eyes of the captain closed. "Tell my wife and daughter that I love them", he whispered, using the last bit of energy and power he had in him, uttering these important words. The blood was pouring through the bandage she applied. She couldn't stop the bleeding. She simply couldn't help him. _

_The body that once moved to fight, to keep alive, didn't move anymore. The captain of the platoon was dead. "Sir!", she yelled at the top of her lungs. She looked around, hoping to find the some comfort in the eyes of the members of her platoon. She had been so focused on saving the life of the captain, she didn't know that the rest of her platoon also had fallen victim to the fast flying bullets. Some of them were screaming in agony, their bodies couldn't deal with the pain anymore. They were so busy making sure they would be alive, could return home to their loved ones. _

_She was alone. Utterly alone in an unfamiliar country, unfamiliar surroundings. In the corner of her eyes she saw man, completely dressed in black, AK47's clutched in their hands. She raised her hands, showing that she wasn't going to put up a fight or try to escape. Someone pulled on her uniform, pulling her to her feet. In the background the platoon tried to make contact with her. _

_"Molly!"_

"Molls", Charles said, worry evident in his facial expression. "Molly", he said her name again, only this time it sounded louder, like he was closer than she thought he was.

"Molly, darling!"

She rose up from the bed, her body damp from the cold sweat caused by the terrible dream she just had. Charles was holding her hand, his eyes wide open, probably in shock from the nightmare she just had. He was stroking her hand, hoping that it would calm her down. She looked at him, trying to find calmness into his loving eyes.

But she couldn't. Those eyes who always seemed to calm her down, couldn't take away the restlessness she had been feeling ever since waking up in the hospital. She knew he wanted to help her, she would have wanted to do the same thing if it was him. But he simply couldn't. She laid back, letting her upper body rest against the pillows. Slowly, her gasping breath slowed down, eventually returning to its normal frequency, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above.

She breathed in, hoping that the traces of the nightmares would leave her body. She wanted to feel happy again, wanted that her life went back to the way it once was. She wanted to feel happy when Charles was touching her, feeling like she could always rely on him. But that feeling, that feeling wasn't there anymore. He couldn't help her, even though she wanted that so badly.

He kept caressing her hand affectionately, probably trying to signal that he was still here, not leaving her side, ever. "Molls", he started when she finally found her calmness again. "Are you alright?"

She swallowed before turning her head to face him. He dragged the chair closer to the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers. "It was bad", she said so softly, it came out as a whisper. "It was really bad."

Carefully, he removed his hand from hers, making his way across her shoulder. When he noticed she didn't flinch at the personal contact, he let his hand rest on her shoulder and finally daring himself to pull her close to him. She grabbed part of the shirt he was wearing, tiding her grip around the thin piece of fabric, because she needed to hold on to something. Literally.

He kissed the top of her head in such a loving way, that she could almost see that the trace of the nightmares began to fade away, hopefully never to reach her again. "What happened to you out there, Molly?", he asked, concern evident in his voice.

She pulled back slightly, so she could look into his eyes again. He looked so lost, like he really didn't know how to deal with this situation. "I'm sorry", she said as a response to the way he was looking at her right now.

He frowned his dark eyebrows, signaling he was confused. "What are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry", she repeated again, pulling him closer, her head resting against his chest. She couldn't dare herself to elaborate on why she was sorry. She couldn't say the words out loud, because they still hurt too much. Oh, she could never stop apologizing enough for what happened out there.

He tilted her head with his indexfinger, so she would look at him again, his eyes filled with the sincerity he always possessed. Something she had admired about him. "Listen, sweetheart", he said, his voice as soft as the summer breeze. "You have nothing to be sorry for, ok? Nothing."

She wasn't just sorry for causing him hurt, pain by getting injured on tour. She was sorry for everything. She was sorry for asking him if he loved her on a very inappropriate time, persisted he answered her question. She was sorry for getting personal involved with him while being on a very dangerous mission. Sorry for almost getting him killed. She was so sorry, so incredibly sorry.

"I want it to stop." He didn't respond to her words, he simply pulled her even closer.

"Talk to me", he said after he held her for a long time, probably hoping she would really calm down.

"Please", he added.

She looked into his eyes. He wiped away a tear that had the nerve to show itself to the outside word. "I can't", she answered. "I'm sorry." He pulled her closer again, her head rested against his chest.

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><p>The night slowly settled around the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Birmingham, its darkness wandering across the streets outside. He opened the doors, which gave him access to the Intensive Care Unit. He just went upstairs to the cafeteria to eat something. Today her mother had visited Molly as well. He thought he even saw something that looked like a smile on Molly's face.<p>

When he reached the room occupied by Molly, he saw an unexpected guest. It was his sister again. He frowned his eyebrows, trying to find a reason for her presence here. Nathalie and Molly weren't particular close. They liked each other from the moment he introduced them to one another, but it wasn't like they were best friends.

"You'll be alright, sweetie", he heard Nathalie say to Molly. His girlfriend nodded her head, before hugging his sister. Nathalie looked at Molly one more time, before she made her way towards the hallway he was standing.

When his sister noticed the confusion written all over his face, she said: "Sometimes she just needs a girl to talk to, Charles. It's nothing personal."

She tried to walk away, leaving him behind with the words she uttered, but he moved his body, blocking the path she was about to walk. He folded his arms across his chest. "Look, you need to tell me if you know something."

Now it was his sister's turn to look confused. "Need to? Really?"

"I only want to help."

"And you think that if I share state secrets everything will be alright?" Nathalie shook her head. "Thought I knew you better than that, bother."

He unfolded his arms again, letting this desperate feeling he had been experiencing ever since Molly woke up, taking control over him. He simply didn't know what to do anymore. He wanted nothing more than to take the pain away from her, but he couldn't. "I'm desperate, Nat", he tried, hoping she would see sense and tell him everything. "I don't know what to do."

"Well", she said, gesturing towards him before continuing: "This desperate state of yours isn't going to get my fucking ass in prison for treason, alright?"

"What do you want me to do?", he asked his sister, hoping she would feel some compassion towards him. "If I don't know what happened to her out there, how will I be able to help her?"

He saw her facial expression soften. "Be there for her and be patient."

"I've tried that. It doesn't work."

"She'll come around eventually. Trust me."

"Trust you?", he huffed. "Really? After this?"

The soft expression her face once possessed, making room for the anger to come out of hiding. "I'll just let that one slide, since you're emotional involved." She turned around, not waiting for him to answer. She turned around one more time and added: "Next time you're not going to get away with this."

He walked towards the place where Nathalie was currently standing. "Do you know how hard it's been? To watch the woman I love slowly dying inside and there is nothing I can do about it?"

"But that doesn't mean I need to tell you what happened", she argued her case. "It's not up to me. She needs to trust you and tell you."

"But Nat-", he tried one more time.

"No", she said while shaking her head. "You're not using fucking emotional blackmail on me." She started to walk away, making her way towards the exit of the ward. "Goodnight, Charles."

When the doors had closed behind her, he finally let out a sight. He was so frustrated at the moment. He knew deep down inside of him she was right. She couldn't share state secrets if that meant she would commit treason. He couldn't ask that from her, he shouldn't have. But he wanted nothing more than to help the person, who laid in the hospital bed, hopeless.

He looked at Molly, who was staring at the ceiling above of her, like he had been doing for days now. Sometimes she would look at him, but mostly she would avoid any eye contact whatsoever. In times like this he wished Official Secrets Acts and classified didn't exist, that his sister was allowed to tell him everything he should know.

He sighted. Maybe she was right. Maybe he needed to take his sisters advice and be patient, be there for her.

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><p><strong>As always, a review would make me one happy writer! And thanks for reading :) <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Alrighty then, I'm back with a brand new chapter. Just a little warning, it's another sad one. **

**Secondly, I want to thank each and every one that was kind enough to review my last chapter. Thank you very, very much! It's much appreciated. And for those asking what exactly happened to her… Well, you'll find out. In every chapter I'm going to reveal parts of what happened, so don't worry. Just be patient with me, haha! **

**And I just want to explain one more thing, before I'll let you read the chapter. The italic bits are either flashbacks or nightmares The flashbacks are the things that actually happened on tour to Molly and the nightmares are just something Molly is imagining, so that didn't really happen. **

**Alright, I'm done rambling. Enjoy!**

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><p>Molly sighed deeply. It had been a two weeks since she had her first flashback of her last tour. Every night she tried to sleep, listen to her body's need for rest, but she couldn't. She was afraid, afraid that the nightmares kept coming, never leaving her. Over the last couple of weeks the nightmares had become more vivid, more real every time. Most of the time she woke up, covered in cold sweat, breathing heavily.<p>

She wanted it to stop. She wanted the pain that always came with the nightmare, like she got them on sale: "Two for the price of one", to go away, never returning to her. In the past two weeks she had been talking to the hospital shrink, but those sessions didn't seem to help. The nightmares weren't leaving her, it was like they only got more intense, more real since she had been talking about it. Since she had been reliving everything that happened in the Middle-East.

And the only treatment she thought was the most effective one at the moment, was to stay awake, taking short naps in between to re-charge, so to speak. Charles had asked about the nightmares – he must have noticed the dark bags under her eyes -, but she couldn't tell him. Just not yet.

Slowly, she felt her eyes getting heavy. She didn't have the energy, the strength to fight the upcoming tiredness. She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. After a short battle, which she had lost eventually, she gave in to her body's needs and drifted off to sleep.

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><p><em>[nightmare]<em>

_A soft summer breeze blew across the Royal Victoria Park in Bath, bringing the local flowers and trees into motion. Children were running around the small green pastures around her, their laughter filling the air around her. Slowly she led her hand slip into the strong one of her captain, while taking in the scenery before her, the radiating warmth of the sun making it even more beautiful. _

_There, in front of them, was Sam playing tag with his younger brother, Matthew. Matthew had the same curly, brown hair as his father but she had recognized that Matthew possessed the color of her eyes. Sam touched his brother's shoulder, while saying: "Ha! You're it", and then making a run for it, trying to find shelter behind one of the trees. _

_All of a sudden dark clouds started to close in, stripping her surrounding of the much needed light. The soft summer breeze turned into a fast storm, pulling at the tree branches with such force that leaves started to fall out. But that wasn't the only thing the trees had lost, birds were also leaving their nest, trying to find a safe place to hide. She tried to squeeze the hand of her captain, but he was gone. He wasn't there anymore. Where did he go? _

_She spotted Sam and Matthew, but they weren't running anymore. They were watching the trees, taking in the changing weather. "Come on", she yelled at them, extending her hand to indicate that they should leave and find shelter in their home. _

_In the background she heard a loud bang. She tried to figure out what had caused that awful loud bang, when she noticed it, something she wished she hadn't. On top of a pile of leaves was Matthew lying, not moving. His beautiful eyes motionless, staring into the unknown world behind the dark clouds above him. "Matthew!", she screamed, running towards the body. _

_When she was only a few centimeters away, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of his forehead there was a wound, a very round wound. Something that could only be caused by a fast flying object; a bullet. When she tried to reach out to her son, hoping that for some reason she would still save him, she felt something heavy in her hand. She looked down, finding the only object that could cause that wound in her hand. She killed him. She had killed her and Charles most precious gift; their four year old son. _

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><p>She's curled up in the hospital bed, the blue colored blankets tightly wrapped around her body. Tears were formed in the corner of her eyes, eventually running down her cheeks. Usually when she cried, the tears she had shed would relief some of the pain, but this time… This time it was only making this worse.<p>

She was laying with her back to the door, not noticing that her mother had just entered the hospital room. The moment she was aware she had a visitor, was when her mother began to speak: "So, how's my Molls doing?"

Belinda settled in the chair opposite of the bed, facing her daughter full on. When she noticed the tears, she dragged the chair closer to the bed. She brushed away the tears, softly stroking her cheek like she used to do when she was little. "What is it, sweetie?"

"I killed it", she confessed.

Her mother frowned her ash-blonde eyebrows. "What do you mean?", she asked, hoping that her eldest daughter would explain what she was talking about.

"I killed it", she repeated again.

"What have you killed, Molly?"

"The child." Surprise was evidently written across her mother's face, who was still not sure what she was referring to. "I killed Charles' baby."

"What you're on about?"

"I was pregnant during tour", she explained, while the tears started to show themselves again. "I went on the mission and lost it."

"Oh, my baby", her mother said, kissing her forehead in the loving way she needed. She never needed someone in her life as much as she needed her loving mother at the moment. "What have they done to you?", Belinda continued in a whisper.

Her mother caressed her cheeks again and slowly she felt part of the pain drain away, finding the metaphorical place under the stairs. "Does he know yet?"

She shook her head. "No", she said. "Ain't got the balls to tell him."

"You've gotta, Molls. He has a right to know."

Tears started to run down her cheeks again. "I'll hurt him, mum", she said, her emotions taking over the stability of her voice. "I don't want to hurt him anymore. I'm hurting him now, with being wounded and that."

A small smile started to appear on her mother's face, probably hoping to encourage her to tell Charles the truth. "He ain't blaming you for that", Belinda said, running a hand through her daughters dark hair. "You know that."

She closed her eyes, breathing in the much needed fresh air. Deep down she knew her mother was right. He did have a right to know what happened, but she didn't want to hurt him anymore. She wanted him to be happy, to feel happy and whole again. And she was holding him back from that. She knew he was hurting as well, even though he didn't show it in front of her.

"Yeah, I do", she responded. She got out of the fetal position she had been lying in ever since this conversation started, slowly trying to sit up straight. She moved the upper part of the bed, which would help her into the sitting position. She looked into her mother's eyes, hoping to find some calmness. Hoping that it would somehow sort out the mess inside her head. "Just don't want to hurt him no more."

Her mother stood up from the chair, opening her arms and inviting her in for a hug. Belinda pulled her close to her chest. Slowly, she felt the warmth of her mother's embrace taking an effect on her, letting her muscles relax a bit more. But that wasn't the only response her body had to this kind of contact.

Another amount of tears started to run down her cheeks. Finally, she let it out. She let out the things she had been carrying ever since she woke up in the hospital. The weight on her shoulder was being lifted, caused by one simply action from her mother.

"He would wane know", her mother said after she had held her for what seemed like hours. "It's not like you knew you were pregnant, eh?"

Molly bit her lip anxiously. "Did you know, Molls?" she asked.

"I hadn't had my period that previous month", she confessed. "But I thought it was the stress. I always stress before I go on tour."

Her mother didn't respond to her daughters words, she only pulled her into her warm embrace. "If I had just checked, got one of them stupid tests, the baby would be fine", Molly continued. "I'm a murderer, mum."

Her mother created some distance between them so she could look her in the eye. "Don't say stuff like that, baby. You ain't no killer, alright?" When she didn't respond to those words, her mother cupped her cheeks, while sincerity had a dominant presence in her eyes. "You're the most loving and unselfish person I know. And I couldn't be more proud than to call you one of mine."

Molly sniffled. "Yeah?"

Her mother smiled. It possessed the same warmth her hug just did. "You're my girl, aren't ya?"

"Thanks, mum."

Her mother kissed the top of her head, before pulling her close again. "Always, sweetie. Always."

* * *

><p>The weeks were passing by slowly. She was gaining strength every week, looking more and more like she had before she went on tour. After she had some psychotherapy to start the rehabilitation process, she was allowed to go home. There was no need for her to stay at the hospital anymore, home care would come by every day to check up on her.<p>

The doctor did say it was important that she kept seeing the shrink, even emphasizing to involve her partner into this. He had said that her relationship wouldn't survive if she didn't talk to him about it.

After the conversation with her mother she had been thinking about what she said. She knew she was right; Charles did deserve to know. But she couldn't lose him. Not now, not while she would need him. He would blame her in the same way she was blaming herself.

She closed her eyes again, feeling the tiredness of the day taking its toll on her. When she was being discharged her whole family, including her family and nan, were there with her. They went with her and Charles back to the apartment and stayed for dinner.

"Can I get you anything?", she heard him ask, interrupting her trail of thoughts. "Tea, maybe?"

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, I'm just going to bed." She stood up from the couch, that was standing in the middle of their living room. "I'm tired." She made her way to the stairs, carefully putting on foot on the first step, making contact with the carpet draped over it while her hand made contact with the oaken handrail.

She let out a deep breath, to relieve some of the pain that was caused by that one movement. He must have noticed that she was having a hard time getting up the stairs towards the bedroom, since he was at the side in an instance.

He placed one of his hands on her back, trying to help her up the stairs. "I'm fine", she snapped. "I can do it." She untied herself from his hand on her back, putting her other foot on the next step.

She turned around to look at him, instantly regretting that she snapped at him. She made eye contact with him. He looked at her in such a way she wasn't familiar with. He looked so lost, like some lost puppy. "I'm sorry", she whispered.

She turned around again, continuing her journey upstairs. She left him behind with those couple of words, waiting for her to return to him. Come back to him, like she had done a dozen of times. Only this time something was holding her back. That one thing that prevented her from launching herself into his arms, making sure that she would be okay.

But she wasn't okay. She was far from it.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? I hope you have enjoyed it, and as always a review would make me a very happy person, haha. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**As always, thank you very much for each and everyone that took the time to review last chapter. It's really appreciated. And to show how much I appreciate it… an extra long chapter for you to read. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>[Flashback] <em>

_She strolled around the grounds of camp Fulmand, holding a bowl of coco-puffs in her hand. The kind of breakfast she always had when she was on tour. It reminded her of that one particular person that was waiting for her at home, that one person that always had her back, like he also had on her first tour. _

_After she got back from her second tour training the Afghan medic's, he had explained to her what an euphemism was, which resulted in her laughing about the meaning of "dipping his spoon into her coco-puffs". In fact, it still made her laugh, since Charles had done exactly that, maybe even a bit more. _

"_Private Dawes!" someone yelled behind her. She turned around, finding the captain of her platoon waving at her, gesturing for her to come into the tent, which was mostly used to host the briefings for a mission. "Mission briefing, now!" _

_She walked across the military camp, taking one more bit of her coco-puffs before she entered the briefing tent. She held up the flap of the tent, so she could access the area it was hiding. When she entered, she was met with the rest of het platoon, pen and a notebook at the ready, who were waiting for the briefing to start. Maps were laying on the table in the middle of the tent, disorganized like a strong wind had blown through the once neat pile of papers. _

"_Sorry to put the breakfast on hold, Dawes", her captain started. "But we have received some intel from an anti-terrorist joint taskforce about some activity in the area. The same area where we had contact yesterday."_

_She nodded to the captain, signaling she understood his words. Behind the captain two people started to appear, stepping away from the shadow that had been hiding them. Familiar dark brown hair caught her eye, eventually being met with an even more familiar pair of chocolate brown eyes. She looked again, trying to decipher if she was simply hallucinating instead of seeing Charles' sister, whom she only met during her first Christmas in Bath. _

"_Agent James, if you'd like to begin", the captain said, confirming she wasn't hallucinating. Charles' sister was actually present in the tent. _

_She cleared her throat and took a few steps forward, resting her hands on the improvised table. "Right", she started. "Over the last couple of months we have been monitoring a group of people in London, who we suspect of aiding the IS militants. We have traced their movements back to this area in Syria." Nathalie pointed at an area about 20 miles from camp Fulmand. The area where her platoon had contact with some insurgents yesterday; it had been restless ever since the platoon had arrived in Syria. Contact even got as far as it blew a soldier's leg off. _

"_We have tried to get drones in the air, but haven't seen anything useful. They were shot out of the air within minutes after takeoff." Nathalie looked across the room, making brief eye contact with her sister in law. _

"_However a few days ago we managed to get the drone up for a couple of hours and we saw some strange activity here in this compound." She pointed at one of the mountain tops in the area, nestled deep into the desert of this country. "Our satellite had picked up activity through thermal imaging from at least a dozen man and a wide arsenal of weapons, tanks. You name it." _

"_Why are we involved?", one of members of the platoon asked. "Isn't this a job for special forces?"_

_The partner of Nathalie stepped forward and said: "This is a joint operation. The SAS will take the lead, you are simply their back up."_

_The private nodded, acknowledging the answer given by the agent. "Alright", the agent continued. "The SAS are going to secure the compound, while you guys will stay here for back up, securing the area around it. We need to move fast, giving the insurgents no time to respond to the raid. Any questions?" _

_None of the platoon members said anything, the only noise was coming from outside the tent, indicating that there was a wide range of activity out there. Nathalie planted both of her hands on the table, leaning heavily on it: "You will leave this later this afternoon on the same time as the scheduled patrol. That way we won't raise any suspicion. The SAS will be wearing the same uniform as you lot, so that it would appear as a normal patrol." _

_Everyone nodded in unison, understanding the words that had been spoken. "Alright, you're dismissed." The rest of the platoon walked towards the exit, closely followed by Molly. _

_This was weird, really weird. To find a person here in Syria, who you believed was the sole image of innocence and sweetness. When she had first met Nathalie at the Christmas dinner in Bath she never suspected that this was what she'd been hiding. Her and Nathalie weren't the closest of friends, but she liked Charles' younger sister. _

_She could still remember that she told them about the posh part of the family and that she and Charles choose a career path that didn't meet up with the expectations of the family. A big part of the James' was either in some political thing or head of some bank. Something that Nathalie didn't want, she had said to her. _

_Her thoughts were interrupted when Nathalie appeared outside the briefing tent. "Gonna get some scoff while I still got the time." _

_Nathalie waved at her partner before settling her eyes on Molly. She walked towards her, lips curled up on both sides. "Well, this is a surprise, then", Molly said. _

_Nathalie chuckled. "Yeah, could say that." _

_They started to walk across the grounds of the military base. "So, you have a funny description of the whole job translator thing." _

"_Sorry", Nathalie said, a apologetic smile appeared on her face. "Threw the dictionary out when I had the GCSE's"._

_Now it was Molly's turn to chuckle. "What exactly do you do for a livin', then?" _

"_I work for the anti-terrorism department of the MET. Counter Terrorism Command, it's called. Now I'm part of a joint taskforce to hunt down the insurgents." Nathalie shrugged. "Sitting behind a desk isn't really my thing. Would rather blow up it up than sit behind it."_

"_You sound like someone I know", Molly said, her laughter filling the space between them. "Does he know?" _

"_You mean Charles?" When Molly nodded to her, indicating that the answer to the question was "yes", Nathalie continued: "Yeah, he does. Apart from him, and now you, nobody knows." _

"_Not even your parents?"_

_Nathalie shook her head. "No, they would only worry about me. I don't want that. I saw what it did to them when Charles was on tour. During his first tour our parents were on the verge of a divorce." _

"_Really?", she asked, surprise written all over her face. This wasn't something she'd expect. When she had met his parents for the first time they looked like the people who had a strong and solid marriage, not once having the same problems as her mom and dad had. _

"_Yeah", Nathalie said, letting out a deep sight. "Charles had to smooth things over when he came back."_

"_Wow", was all she could say. _

"_Yeah, you could say that." _

"_Agent James?", someone yelled behind them, interrupting their conversation. Nathalie turned around, facing the person who said her name. "HQ on the phone for you." _

"_Sorry, gotta go." Nathalie started to make her way towards the communication area, but not before turning around, a teasing smile present on her face: "Take it easy on the fitness today. You'll need all the energy for this afternoon."_

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><p>Molly sipped her tea, taking in the view of the backyard from her position in front of the window. In the middle of the garden she saw Charles potter around in the flowerbeds, Sam carefully watching over his father's shoulders.<p>

She turned around, tearing away from that beautiful scenery. She swallowed. She couldn't deal with being confronted with a loving father and son moment. It was too painful at the moment. She flopped down on the couch in the middle of their living room, staring at the ceiling.

It had been a long time since she thought back about the events that led up to her kidnapping and the injuries she sustained because of that. She had lost so much because of it. She was prepared to give her life for this country, but she never wanted to sacrifice something that stood for life, love and innocence; a child. She knew that the child was only a couple of weeks old, but she still saw it as a life lost.

She sniffed, rubbing her face so she could wipe away the tears and any traces that it left behind. She didn't want Charles to notice that she had returned an emotional wreck. He would be concerned for her and she didn't want to cause him more pain by crying.

All of a sudden someone kissed her cheek. She turned her head, facing whomever was responsible for that one motion. She was faced with the dark brown eyes of Sam. "What's that for, scamp?", she asked, using the nickname his father always used for his son.

"You look sad, Molly."

"What?", she said, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, but only for a brief moment.

"When daddy kissed you, you always smiled", he said, the innocence reflecting in his eyes. "I want you to smile again." She blinked a couple of times, trying to hide the upcoming tears again.

"Are you sad, Molly?"

She sniffled. "A bit, mate."

"Can I help you?"

"No", she said, shaking her head. When saw the sadness taking over Sam's face, she added: "But thank you for wanting to help me."

She sat up straight, pulling him into a warm embrace. This was her only way of saying thank you to this young boy. He had been one of the best things that came with her relationship with Charles. She still remembered meeting him for the first time, although he didn't have a clue about her relationship to his father. How he had laughed at her joke and her sticking out her tongue to him.

When she released him from the hug, he said, the innocence he possessed a few moments ago still there. "I really want you and daddy to stay together. Please stay together."

She tried to smile, tried to make sure he wouldn't have a thing to worry about when it came down to her and Charles. "I'll be alright, Sammy. Don't worry."

She hugged him again, before kissing him on the top of his head. "Love you, Molly", he whispered.

"Love you too, mate", she whispered back.

He untangled himself from her grip, making his way back to the garden. She on the other hand laid herself back on the couch, staring at the white ceiling above. That exact color white that reminded her of the innocence Charles' son possessed.

Maybe there was some underlying truth behind it. Maybe this was fate's way of telling her that she had been a bad girlfriend to Charles. He had been patient with her, extremely patient with her, giving her all the space she wanted and she had been taking advantage of it.

Maybe it was time to return home after she had been wandering in the unknown wilderness for the past couple of weeks. She had been on her own, surrounded by a large area, aimlessly walking around it.

* * *

><p>The night returned to the city of Bath, immersing it in the darkness that came with it. Both of them were sitting on the couch. Her reading one of the stupid magazines she got from her mom when she was still in the hospital while he was working, the laptop rested on his lap. In the background the radio was on, sharing the latest song with the rest of its listeners.<p>

In the corner of her eyes she sometimes noticed him watching her, looking at her in a way she couldn't explain. Was it hurt? Or did he simply felt sorry for her? She shook her head, hoping that this one movement would also remove these thoughts from her head.

_And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70 _

_And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23_

_And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_

The lyrics of this song suddenly made her stop reading, repeating the last sentence Ed Sheeran had just sung. It had been a mysterious way, her and captain James at the time falling in love, kissing in that compound for the very first time.

_Maybe just the touch of a hand_

_Oh me I fall in love with you every single day_

_And I just wanna tell you I am_

She swallowed and looked at Charles. The touch of his hand had always calmed her down, had made feel so incredible loved. It had calmed her down the very first time he cupped her face with his hands, taking away the worry and fear after she had been identified as a target for the Taliban. Why had she let it change? Let the meaning behind it change into something different, something cold and meaningless.

_So, honey now_

_Take me into your loving arms_

_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

_Place your head on my beating heart _

_I'm thinking out loud_

_Maybe we found love right where we are _

She put the magazine on one of the coffee tables while she sat up straight. She had made a decision. She stood up, turning around to face a confused looking Charles. She extended her hand, indicating that she wanted the situation to change. She needed to show him that she was still in here somewhere, that she would come back to him. Eventually.

He put the laptop away, taking her hand into his. She entangled her fingers into his, both of them were thinking back to that one moment of intimacy shared in the medic tent before she went away for her R & R. The first step for them towards the start of their relationship. Carefully he rested his hand on the small of her back, pulling her somewhat closer.

_I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_

_Maybe it's all part of a plan_

_I just keep making the same mistakes _

_Hoping that you'll understand_

When the word mistake had reached their ears, she looked at him, hoping that he understood that she was referring to herself. She had made so many mistakes ever since waking up in that hospital. "I'll come back to you", she whispered. "I'll promise."

"Good", he said, the love for her still evident in his eyes, while he stroke her cheek in an affectionate manner. "Because I miss her terribly."

Tears started to appear in the corner of her eyes. She still was amazed about how much love this man had given her in the past, was still giving her at this moment. "I'm still in here. I'm just lost."

"I'll wait until you'll find your way back. That's my promise."

As a response she only smiled. She pulled him closer, letting her head rest of his chest. She felt his beating heart against her face, indicating that he was still here for her. Loved her unconditionally, even though she didn't deserve it at the moment.

_But baby now_

_Take me into your loving arms_

_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_

_Place your head on my beating heart_

_I'm thinking out loud_

_That maybe we found love right where we are_

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><p><strong>For anyone who wants to know the song. It's Ed Sheeran – Thinking out loud. I was listening to that song and I pictured Charles and Molly slow dancing to it, their first loving moment shared between this couple.<strong>

**And as always, a review is very welcome :) Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

The afternoon sun was settled in the sky above her, the soft autumn wind pulling on the sweater she was wearing. Molly sat down on one of the wooden chairs in the garden, taking in the fresh air the autumn carried with him. She closed her eyes, enjoying the radiating heat from the sun, while taking a sip from her tea.

It had been a couple of days since she had shared that dance with Charles in the living room. She had felt closer to him after that. Ever since she came back from Syria, she couldn't be intimate with a man, even though she knew that Charles would act on the love he felt for her. She didn't want him to touch her just yet.

"So, how's my favourite invalid doing?", she heard someone say to her in the background. She turned around and saw Nathalie standing in the doorway, giving her either access to the garden but also the kitchen.

Molly chuckled. "Not much of an invalid now. Be runnin' the marathon in no time."

Nathalie moved away from the doorway, walking towards her and pulling her into a short hug. She took a seat next to her on one of the other chairs. "Shouldn't you be workin'? Arresting bad guys and that?", Molly asked when she noticed the time.

"Nope", her sister in law sat, leaning against the back of the chair, taking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

"Why not?"

"Been suspended for four months", Nathalie said casually, like it was nothing.

Molly sat up straight, looking at the brunette next to her so she could give that woman her full attention. "What?", Molly asked in surprise. "Why?"

"You know I went on the rescue mission to get you back?" When she nodded, signalling she understood the words Nathalie had just said, Charles' sister continued: "I was ordered to stand down, but I didn't. Now they're going to investigate me, since I ignored orders."

The surprise, more like astonishment, was written all over her face, taking over the facial expressions so that her mouth was shaped in the form of an "O". "Why would you risk your career for me?"

"Because…" Nathalie hesitated, also sitting up straight in the chair, looking at her in some serious manner. "I had to see with my own eyes that you were alright. Charles would've killed me if I let something happen to you."

Molly swallowed. This wasn't something she expected Nathalie to do for her. She knew that before this mission, she and her sister in law weren't close. She thought that she didn't want to be close, because she was different, but that changed ever since she was back from Syria. What happened out there had created some bond between them. "Don't know what to say about this."

Nathalie smiled in a polite manner. "Then, just don't say anything at all."

"You should know that I never want you to lose your job because of me."

Silence overtook the space between them. The hussle of the wind the only sound to be heard. "But how is everything here?", Nathalie asked, indicating she wanted to change the subject. "Alright?"

She shrugged her shoulder. "Suppose so."

Nathalie frowned her dark coloured eyebrows, a slight worried look in her face. "You don't sound too convincing", she stated, crossing her arms simultaneously.

She looked at the person sitting next to her, a person that conquered a piece of her heart over the last couple of months. A person she started to see as one of her best friends. "I know he wants to help me, wants me to talk about it. He's givin' me the worst puppy dog eyes I've ever seen."

"Maybe it's time for you to tell him exactly what happened."

It was a statement she didn't expect, hoped no-one would say to her. Deep, very deep down she knew that Nathalie was right. She had to tell him at some point, but she simply was afraid. Incredibly afraid that he would take French leave, leaving her behind, alone. She didn't want to be left by herself, because she had been almost her entire life. Of course she had her brothers and sisters around her, but that didn't take away the pain when she was alone. Her mum was too busy raising her siblings, dividing her attention as much as she could, while her dad had nothing better to do than play video games during the day while getting drunk at night.

When she joined the army she had found a family again. She felt wanted, loved even. The whole of two section had become like a family to her and had cared for her in such a manner she never thought she would receive. It had felt like this was a dream, too good to be true and that she would wake up soon. But that never really did happen. That was until she got back from Syria, badly injured. It was like her waking up call, like someone was saying that she, Molly Dawes, didn't deserve to be this happy, because she was a bad person.

She shook her head, hoping that it would stop the trail of negative thoughts she'd been having ever since the was discharged from the hospital. She turned her attention to Nathalie, who hadn't moved, expecting an response. "I can't tell him", she answered.

"Why not?"

It was a simple question. Was the answer just as simple? She clutched her hand on the mug with tea she had been holding, hoping that its warmth would eventually reach her hands. "It'll hurt him."

"It's hurting him more if you keep giving him the silence treatment." Molly sighted, while Nathalie continued: "Just start somewhere. He doesn't expect you to tell him everything. Just part of it. It's easier to tell bit by bit than to tell it all."

When she saw that hesitation had captured her, influencing her behaviour and thoughts. "Alright, I'll ask you this." Nathalie straightened her back. "Do you trust him?"

Her answer consisted of one syllable. "Yeah", she said softly.

"Do you trust him with your life? With everything, including the dirty little secrets and bad days?"

She swallowed. "Yeah, I do", she answered in full honesty. Because she did trust him. She had trusted him from the moment she was part of Two Section. He promised her that he would bring her home safe, and he did.

"Then why are you so afraid?"

"Cos." Tears started to well up in her eyes, showing that this was a painful subject. She had been hurting for a long time, longing for being freed from the burden she was baring. She didn't want to feel like this anymore. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was, like it was supposed to be so they could grow old together. "Cos, I don't want to lose him."

"Are you afraid that he'll leave when he knows the truth?"

Molly nodded. "Well", Nathalie continued. "Let me tell you something about my brother. You probably already know this. If I know one thing for sure, is that my brother is the example of a gentleman. Not just your average gentleman… A real, fucking one. And gentlemen don't leave their girlfriend hanging, trust me."

She smiled, taking in the words and processing its content. She was right, of course his sister was right. Charles was the sole imagine of a gentleman. He always spoiled her, paying for diner, opening doors for her or just by simply looked at a way you alway imagine when you're little. And that didn't include on special days, he always looked at in that way.

"I know he's not like those tossers I used to date."

"Then why can't you tell him?"

"Because, I haven't just done something bad. I've made the worst mistake of my life. I know Charles' forgivin' and that, but he might not gonna be all forgivin' this time."

Nathalie unfolded her arms, putting one of her hands on Molly's shoulder. "Well, you'll never know if you don't tell him. And you know as well as I do that you can't continue like this." The brunette next to her squeezed her shoulder.

"Because if you'll go on like this, he's going to leave", Nathalie continued, hoping that she would see gravity of it. "He won't put up with this forever. And if I'm being honest, I don't even want him to do that."

When Molly didn't respond to her words, Nathalie added, while retreating her hand from her shoulder into her lap: "Look, I understand that it's hard, but you need to tell him. You know that's the right thing to do."

"I want to do the right thing."

"Good. Then put that stupid fear away in some fucking little box and shove it somewhere, so you can never find it."

Molly smiled. "Lovely…", she said, wandering off, finding the word that Charles used to describe these things to her. "Metaphor, innit?"

"Yeah, that's a metaphor", Nathalie said, shaking her head while laughing. "Fucking smartass."

* * *

><p>"NO!"<p>

Molly rose up from the pillow that she had rested her head on when she went to bed last night. She was breathing heavily, cold sweat dripping down her face and back. She felt that someone put an arm around her, pulling her close to his chest.

He rubbed her back in a gently manner, while he whispered soothing words in her ear: "Shhh…", he said, trying his best to comfort her. "It's alright. You're safe."

Slowly, the frequency of her breathing in started to slow down, eventually returning to the normal standards. She took a moment to compel herself again, trying to find her way back. "I don't want to have these nightmares again", she confessed. "They're gonna do my nut in someday."

He ran his hand through her hair, while is other hand still remained on her back, rubbing up and down. "Can I get you anything?"

She looked at him, a small amount of brown reaching her eyes, the rest of it stayed hidden in the darkness. She tried to smile at him, but failed utterly. "Maybe some water?"

He didn't say anything. He simply nodded and walked towards the bathroom, not a moment later returning with a glass of water. He handed it to her, before taking a seat next to her on the double bed.

"Thanks", she said, while sipping the water. In the corner of her eyes she can tell that he's watching her, monitoring every move she would make. She could tell by the way he was looking that he was desperate. He wanted to help, but he simply doesn't know how. The words of her conversation with Nathalie were hunting her, like an angel was whispering in her ear, urging for her to do the right thing.

She put the empty glass on the nightstand, while she saw Charles getting ready to go back to sleep. "Can we talk?", she asked him. Now it was the time to stop hiding behind fear and start doing the right thing.

He sat up straight again. "Yeah, of course", surprise written all over her face, probably amazed that she wanted to talk right now. She swallowed, internally blaming herself for making him this way. This wasn't the way she should be effecting him. She should make him happy, making him smile every minute of every day.

"About my nightmare…", she started.

"What happened in the nightmare?" She could hear some hesitation in his question, like he was afraid that she would shut him out again.

"The captain of my platoon was shot in the neck, bled out right in front of me." She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her head on her knees.

"Couldn't do a damn thing about it." She looked at him in the same hopeless way that she did when her captain was shot. "I felt so hopeless then."

Carefully he untangled her hand from her upper arm, taking it into this. "It wasn't your fault."

Tears started to fall down her cheeks. "Don't feel like that sometimes." She paused for a moment, wiping away the salty water with her free hand. "I saw him die right in front of me. It was really bad."

He doesn't respond. He only wrapped his arms around her, letting go of her hand, while pulling her close to his chest. He kissed the top of her head, hoping that she would forget the awful nightmares. "I'm sorry if I've been actin' all bitchy lately."

"You didn't do it on purpose."

"Why are you so good to me? I don't deserve any of it. Not after they I've been treatin' ya."

He put his index finger under chin, making her look him in the eye. "Because I love you."

She knew that he loved her. He said it a couple of times before, but never once did it sound like right at this moment. It hit her hard.

She kissed his cheek, pressing her lips against his skin. The first time in a very long time. "I do too, really."

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you again for all the lovely reviews. Those mean so much to me! <strong>

**And I hope that you've enjoyed this chapter as well. (and for the reviewers who say Molly should tell him, will have to be a bit more patient. She will tell him eventually, I promise…) **

**As always, a review would be lovely :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**Alrighty then, here's the next chapter for you! Just a little warning… this chapter is pretty violent, even the descriptions of some gruesome details. If you don't like reading that, than just skip the whole italic's bit (which is the flashback). **

**Apart from that, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nonetheless.**

* * *

><p><em>[Flashback]<em>

_A musty smell reached her nose, making her sniffle. She blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to the light coming from a small window across from her. She looked around, figuring out where exactly she was. She remembered that she was on patrol with her section and some SAS guys, when suddenly they were getting shot at, eventually hitting the captain in the neck, leaving him to die. _

_She swallowed, hoping that the upcoming tears wouldn't show themselves to the outside world. She felt the guilt of the captains death slowly creeping up on her and there was nothing she could do about it. The last time she had felt this guilty, was when she thought she got both the boss and Smurf killed. The question why she wasn't the one shot hunting her for the rest of their recovering process. _

_She breathed in her body's must needed fresh air, before slowly but surely sitting up. She growled in agony when pain shot through her body, going straight to her head. She looked around the room again, only this time from a different angle. She noticed something was in the corner of the room. She narrowed her eyes, when she finally saw what the object was. It was a person sitting there, face to the concrete walls around them. "Hello?", she said, her voice all squeaky._

_When the person turned around, she was met with a familiar pair of dark, almost black pair of eyes, surrounded by her tanned skin. A person she never thought she would see again. "Bashira", Molly said, surprise evident in her voice. _

"_Molly?"_

"_Yeah, it's me." _

_Molly put in some effort and extended her hand, indicating Bashira could take it. The young girl didn't hesitate; wrapping her smaller hand into hers. She smiled at the person she saw as her little sister. Bashira had grown up, slowly growing into a beautiful young woman. The last time she saw her, she was playing outside in that safe house, which she insisted on visiting against Qaseem's wishes. _

_Their special moment came to an abrupt halt when the door swung open, a group of insurgents entering, dressed in kaki coloured closing and their wide arsenal of weapons hanging around their bodies. Bashira let go of her hand, going back to the exact corner she just came from. The door was shut again, the echo of the loud bang it caused the briefly heard. "Why am I here?" _

_As a response the group of insurgents stepped aside, revealing their true leader. Again she was met with familiar eyes, the colour of the skin close to the one of Bashira and the hair colour black as the night. When he looked at her, all the missing pieces started to fall back into their original place, forming one, giant jigsaw puzzle. It was Bashira's brother Zemaray. "What?", she said breathless, like she had just run an marathon. _

"_Didn't expect to see me here?" _

_She didn't answer his question. She simply looked at him, hoping that it was the same way she once looked at him in Camp Bastion, when she had interrogated him. "Why am I here?", she asked, more confidence present in her voice. _

"_I had made a promise to you", he started, while walking closer to her position, before kneeling down in front of her. "I promised I would avenge my family." _

_She laughed at his words, which resulted in him hitting her in the face. In the background she could hear Bashira shriek, before she thought she heard her sobbing. Pain shot through her face, slowly spreading across the rest of her body. She looked at her attacker again, even more determined than ever. "I ain't afraid of ya", she said, repeating her words from all those years ago. _

"_You should be." He stood up again, rejoining his men before turning around. "Like I said, I will avenge my family's honour."_

_She saw anger appearing in his eyes. He pointed his finger at her, before he raised his voice, stepping towards her again. She backed away, fear finally found her in this God forsaken country. She tried to back away, but he was too fast for her. He grabbed her by her collar, slightly lifting her from the ground. "You have killed my father, ruined my family's reputation. I will avenge their honour." _

_He threw her back, her bottom and legs ached when they touched the ground again. He walked back, standing in front of his men like he was their true leader. "What you're gonna do, then? Huh? Kill me?" _

"_No." He shook his head. "I'm slowly going to torture you until you beg me to kill you."_

_One of the men still gathered behind Zemaray opened the door again, disappearing in the hallway before returning with a chair, closely followed by a black bag. Her breathing started to increase by this development, anxiety taking over her body. _

_Two pair of firm hands grabbed her under the armpits, dragging her towards the chair before throwing her into it. They strapped her arms, the robe cutting in her wrists, making her arms go numb, while tying her legs violently as well. In the background she could see Zemaray smirking, enjoying the fact that he was in control now. _

_Other men unpacked the bag, revealing some device that she thought had something to do with electricity. Wires were being attached to her fingertips and head. Someone grabbed her by her throat, making her open her mouth. She was shaking her head in an uncontrolled manner, struggling to stop them from reaching their goal; getting the wire attached to her tongue. Eventually she lost, simply because there were too many for her to fight. _

_The men started to depart the room, leaving Zemaray in control of not only her life, but that of Bashira as well. The young girl, whom she gotten so fond of, was still present in the room. She knew that she had been exposed to far too much violence in her life, especially living with a father like Badrai, but that didn't mean she should see more of it in her life. _

_When she saw Zemaray turning on the machine, she yelled: "Stop!"_

"_If you're such a man of honour", she started, momentarily finding her courage again. "At least have the good manners and get your sister outta here." _

_Her statement must have meant something to him, since he ordered the men to take his sister out of the room. "Molly, no!", Bashira yelled, desperately trying to reach for her comforting hand again. _

"_It's alright, Bashira", she said through the tears, through the pain. _

_Tears started to stream down the young girls face. "No!"_

"_Tah eejay zama khor", Molly said, trying her best to pronounce the words right in Pashto. _

"_Sisters forever?", Bashira whispered. _

"_Forever, I promise." _

_They dragged Bashira out of the room, her screaming for Molly heard even after the door was closed. The other men also started to leave, eventually only leaving behind a loud bang of the door when it was being closed. Zemaray smiled, his evil eyes remaining on her. "It's time to play", he said, followed by the most evil smirk she had ever seen in her life. _

_She closed her eyes, not attempting to stop the tears from running down her face. This was it. This was the end. She was never going to see Charles again, feel his amazing lips on hers, see his beautiful smile when he laughed at something she said in cockney, which he clearly didn't understand. Or how he made sweet love to her in a way no-one had ever done to her. No-one had loved her like he did. _

_She would never see her mother again, the woman who raised her and who was so proud of her for joining the army, making something of her life. She would even go as far as she would miss her father, whom she seemed to get closer to every time they were together. She hoped that her letter from the grave would give them some consolation. _

"_I love you all", she whispered softly, hoping that her kidnapper wouldn't have heard her. He simply pressed one button, releasing something that would cause the worst pain she had ever experienced; getting electrocuted. _

"_AH!", she screamed! _

* * *

><p>"Molly", someone said, his voice sounded far away.<p>

"Private Dawes, come back!", someone said, only this time it sounded louder, much louder. A nudge to her shoulder made her come back, following the sound of that one voice, hoping to get a grip on reality again. She snapped out of her nightmare, leaving the brutal image of Syria behind, taking in the surroundings of the shrink's office.

Molly sat up straight again. "Good. Take a few deep breaths. You have done wonderfully." The doctor handed her a glass of water, before sitting back in his chair opposite of her. Ever since she was discharged from the hospital she had been coming here for the treatment of something called PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was what he had called it. Something that was very common to soldiers returning from war, he had said.

She took a few sips of the water, before putting it down on the green coloured table, which was positioned between the doctor and her. "Why do I have to relive it every time?"

"Because exposure to the nightmares help them decrease", he said, his voice steady as usual. She looked at him, like he was talking crap, before he added: "Scientifically researched method, private. Really."

"Bet none of them have these bloody nightmares."

The doctor chuckled, before changing the direction of the conversation entirely. "How is everything at home? Have there been any improvements regarding the relationship between you and your partner?"

Molly leaned back, taking a deep breath. "We have talked", she said casually, like it was nothing. "If that's what you mean."

"Talked about what?"

"'Bout one of the nightmares. The one where the captain's dying and that." The shrink across from her started to write things down into the notebook that rested on his lap.

"How was that?"

She shrugged. "Talkin'? Fine, I guess."

The doctor adjusted the position of his glasses on his noise, before putting his hands together. "You seem doubtfull."

She looked at the man that was supposed to help her, help her get rid of the bleeding nightmares that kept her awake so many times. She was getting frustrating at the whole healing process, if she was being completely honest with herself. She wasn't healing, she was hurting deep inside and she simply wanted it to stop.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "I just want it to stop, doc", she said, honestly audible in the way she said the words. "Want those bleedin' nightmares to go away."

The doctor nodded, his grey hair shining in the light above him. "And talking about it, especially with your partner, helps. Really."

"How?"

"Because you'll drive yourself insane if you don't talk and the pain will become unbearable, eventually. It won't make the negative thoughts go away."

She took in the doctor's words. Deep, deep down inside of her she hoped the doctor was right. That talking was a way of dealing with it. That it would make the pain and nightmares go away.

"Are you still taking your medication?"

She nodded. "Yeah, those don't seem to do the trick either."

"It takes some time before your body gets used to them", he started to explain, his eye brows forming one, big frown on his forehead. "You need a certain amount of it in your blood before it helps. It simply takes time."

He paused for a moment, the gravity of the current situation still present in his facial expression. "The treatment is not going to work if you don't believe in it, Molly."

"It ain't helpin', that's why I don't believe."

"Like I have said, it takes time. If I had a wand and waving it would make everything go away, I would use it."

She chuckled, not before reaching for the half-full glass of water and taking a sip. "Would be a lot easier if you could."

Now it was the doctor's time to chuckle again, before he checked his watch. "Alright", he said. "Just keep taking the medications until we reach week 15 and keep talking about it. It will get better, really."

"Hope you're right. It's doin' my nut in, to be honest."

He put the notebook on the table, before standing up and moving towards the door. "I'll see you next week, private", he said, extending his hand.

"Next week." She nodded, shaking his hand before leaving the doctor's office behind her.

* * *

><p>Carefully she closed the door behind her. "Charles?", she asked, while putting her coat on the hat stand and walking towards their living room. She looked around their apartment, trying to find any trace of her boyfriends presence.<p>

Her glance wandered across the living room, eventually settling on the couch. There she found the answer to her question. She walked across the couch, finding Charles half sitting, half lying down, she couldn't describe it any other way.

She stifled a laugh, trying not to wake him. He was lying there with his mouth half open, looking absolutely ridiculous. She couldn't help herself but compare this sight to the one's she had seen a lot at home with her younger brothers and sisters. With a little imagination she could easily picture some drool coming from the corner of his mouth.

She decided to sit down next to her, moving his arm in such a way so that it would be wrapped around her shoulder. She snuggled up against him, her head resting firmly on his chest. She closed her eyes, letting his smell reach her nose, helping her relax. Slowly, she drifted off to an unknown land, but this time it wouldn't consist of nightmares. She would finally see a happy ending to her dreams.

* * *

><p><strong>Firstly, thank you again for the lovely reviews. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well, despite the violence… <strong>

**Anyway, what do you think of this chapter? I hope it's answered some questions as to what happened to her. I have done some research to electrocuting someone, made my stomach turn really. Most disgusting this I've ever read..**

**I will reveal more and more about the events in the next chapters. Don't worry, this story is far from finished!**

**Just one more thing. The Pashto that I used in the flashback scene means literally: You are my sister. I have simply translated that sentence piece by piece, so I'm not sure it's grammatically right in Pashto. If I've translated it wrong, just let me know and I'll change it..**

**And as always, a review would be very lovely :) **


	8. Chapter 8

Charles rubbed his face, taking in a deep breath before he swung his legs over the edge of double bed. He looked next to him, finding a cold, empty space there. Last night after he had dosed off on the couch, he had found Molly snuggled up against him, something she hadn't done since she had come back from her mission. She was sleeping peacefully and not being taunted by the nightmares, for once.

She was coming back to him, slowly. Very slowly. He was luckily he had the grant gift of patience, otherwise this would have killed him. He got dressed in some sweatpants and a sweater before he made his way down. When he passed the window on the first floor, something in the garden caught his eye.

The garden was covered in a thin layer of pure, white snow, covering ever object it possessed, while he found Molly in the middle of it. She was spinning around with her arms open and eyes closed like some sort of ballerina, catching the still falling snowflakes with her tongue. He stood there, not wanting to move from his position for a few moments, taking in the view in front of him. There was his Molly being free, the nightmares and sorrow of the last tour not holding her back from enjoying life again. He smiled, she was coming back.

He made his way downstairs, grabbing his coat from the hat rack and putting on the boots he had bought for when the weather was bad. He stepped outside and started to walk towards Molly, leaving footsteps behind in the once untouched snow.

"What are you doing?", he asked, a smile still present on his face.

She opened her eyes. What he had found in her eyes, was something he thought this mission took from her; her innocence, sometimes even childish innocence. That thing he loved so much about her. Her different look at the things in life.

She smiled, the white color of her teeth almost as white as their surroundings. "It's snowing", she said, joy audible in her voice. He even thought he heard her laugh. "Don't you find it magical?"

"Snow?"

She nodded and started to spin around again, trying to catch the snowflakes with her tongue. He followed the snow coming from the sky to her coat or her trousers. A few snowflakes made their way down and landed on her hair, smelting instantly and becoming one with a lock of her hair. It was making it shine, like it was making Molly shine again too.

He joined her, closing his eyes to enjoy the snow falling down on his face. She was right. This was magical.

All of a sudden he didn't feel the snowflakes on his face again, he felt an immense cold and snow every were. He opened eyes, seeing the culprit who've just shoved a large amount of snow into his face. There she was, having the biggest smile plastered on her face, another snowball reading to be thrown.

"You're so dead", he announced, before he started to run towards her, chasing her around the garden. The snowball she had in her hand nearly missed his head, landing behind him on the ground. Damn, Molly had good aim.

He pushed some snow together, making it into one round ball and started to throw it at her. For some reason she saw it coming since she ducked just in time, the snowball hitting fence behind her. He grabbed another amount of snow together, but instead of throwing it at her, he began chasing her around the garden with it.

When he finally cornered her, her back facing his and her hands trying to cover her face, he shoved the entire amount of it in her face. "Ah!", she shrieked, the snow also finding its way down her neck and back. They continued chasing each other, both of them hitting each other with the snowballs until she cornered him.

Eventually both of them lost their balance, falling down on the snow covered ground of the garden. They continued to shove snow in each other's faces. She moving the now in such a way, like a dog would do when he was digging in the dirt, when they would sometimes do that to hide their bones in it.

Finally, they were out of breath, not having the energy anymore. She laid her head on his chest, looking at him with only love in her eyes. The love he thought had disappeared when she had returned home, unconscious. She had looked at him in those last couple of weeks, only a small amount of love evident in her eyes. He always saw that it was combined with hurt and pain, showing that she was still hurting over everything that had happened.

"I've missed it. This", he whispered, putting one lock of her damp hair behind her ears.

"What?"

He smiled, not letting go of her dark colored hair. "You're laughter", he said. "I thought that mission was going to consume you."

She put her hand on his face, the coldness of it not once bothering him. "But it didn't. You helped me."

"I did?", he asked, surprise evident in his facial expressions as well as in the tone of his voice.

She nodded. "Yeah, cos you being all patient with me and that", she said, the sincerity of her words present in her eyes. The meaning of her words almost deadly, especially with the love those eyes showed him at the moment. "Those twats I used to date would be gone after day two", she added.

"I could never walk away from you."

She smiled, the warmth of it reaching his heart, making his love grow for her even more than it already had. "I'm just very lucky then", she said softly.

He chuckled. "Yeah, I mean…", he said, a cheeky smile on his face. "Look at me. I'm every girls dream."

Now it was her time to chuckle, before punching him in the stomach. His Dawesy was back, she came back to him. He knew there was still a long way to go, but she was coming back to him. Like she had promised.

Slowly he moved his head closer to hears, cupping her face like he had once done before he dared himself to brush his lips against hers. Something he had wanted to do ever since she was back, but never dared himself to do again. He didn't want to push her away, because if he did, she would never come back to him.

They stayed outside for what seemed like hours, kissing each other, but also enjoying the beautiful, white snow. The coldness of the snow eventually making them go inside and warm up before the fireplace. They changed into some warm clothes, before he made her her morning tea while he made himself a cup of Rosabaya.

They settled down on the rug before the fireplace, letting the warmth of the fire reaching their skin. "Look", she said, hesitation audible in her voice. "Can I tell you something?"

He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, sure. Anything."

"I was kidnapped in Syria…", she started. He didn't respond, he simply let her tell the entire story.

* * *

><p>Slowly the autumn was driven out by the cold that the winter brought with it, resulting in snow, hailstorms or just the typical rain the UK was known for. After they had talked she felt so relieved, finally free from that weight on her shoulder, that was keeping her down and closed off from the outside world.<p>

He was sitting on the couch, his feet on the coffee table in front of him while he was flipping through a magazine he had read a thousand times, when he heard the front door being opened. He stood up, making his way towards the hallway, finding Molly and Nathalie there, surrounded by a few shopping bags.

"So, is there money left for food tomorrow?", he asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Nope", Molly said, a teasing smile on her face. "We're gonna have to live on water and dry bread for the rest of month." She threw her shoes under the hat rack, before taking a few of the bags of the floor, making her way upstairs.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm mingin', she said to Nathalie. "See you later, yeah?" She turned around, making her way towards the first floor, leaving him behind with his sister. Both of them made their way towards the living room, flopping on the couch that was standing in the middle of the room.

Silence reigned between them. Ever since Molly had told him what happened out there, he figured his owned his sister an apology. It wasn't fair of him to demand that she told him the truth in the hospital that night.

He cleared his throat. "I just want to say thank you for bringing Molly back. It won't go unnoticed."

His sister looked at him, her chocolate brown eyes almost burning into his skin. She smiled. "Would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Not a lot of people would say that, you know."

She shrugged her shoulders, like it was nothing she had done for him or for Molly. "You're not the only one who wants to protect her. She's like a younger sister to me, who I sort of need to protect."

He smiled softy, while the happiness that smile presented spread across his body. He always wanted that his family liked Molly, since she was very important to him. Two years ago he wouldn't have imagined that his younger sister would be so close to his girlfriend, only dreamed about it.

"And sometimes you can't, I know", he admitted. "Felt really hopeless when I couldn't do anything when she came back."

"I'm sorry", she said sincerely.

He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "Don't be. I was stupid to demand you to tell me what happened. I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

"You were desperate. Understandable."

"But still…"

"Well, brother dearest", she said, mocking the use of the word "brother" here. "You're forgiven."

He didn't respond to her words, simply pulling her into a hug, hoping that it would show his gratitude. Ever since they were young he was close with Nathalie, closer to her than he ever was with his older brother Edward. But maybe that got something to do with the fact that he shared the same view on life as Nathalie did. They didn't want to be in politics or banking, like the rest of the family. They wanted to do something, matter to someone and actually making a difference.

"But about Zemaray…", he started.

"What about him?"

"What happened to him after you rescued Molly?"

He didn't know if his eyes were betraying him, but he thought he saw her tense when he mentioned Bashira's brother. "He's rotting in that godforsaken desert somewhere."

"What?"

She looked at him. "He's dead, Charles", she said. "Just drop it."

"Who says he's dead?"

"I know for sure, because…" She stopped midsentence, trying to find the right words. "I am the one that made sure he would never see the light of day, alright? I personally put a bullet in his head."

He shrunk back, slightly taken by surprise by sister's response. He knew that she wasn't the innocent person she once was when they were younger, but he never thought about his sister being a killer. "What?", was the only thing he could say right now, still astonished about what she had confessed to him.

She pressed her lips together. "I killed him, Charles. Because he was not getting away with what he did to Molly."

"That's the real reason behind the suspension, right?", he asked. She nodded, confirming his suspicions. "You're being investigated."

She leaned forwards, putting her elbows just above her knees while she let her head rest in her hands. "I wasn't even supposed to be at this raid, Charles. I went against all orders. And on top of that, I killed the one responsible for the kidnapping."

He put a hand on the small of her back, slightly rubbing it, hoping that it would comfort her in some way. "So, what's going to happen next?", he asked.

She sighted, running her hand through her dark colored hair. "I have a hearing with the Independent Police Complaint Commission on Wednesday." He let go of her back, retreating his hand to his lap while she leaned back against the couch.

"Some men, who were there at the raid, put in their report that they thought I acted on personal feelings."

"And did you?"

"No", she said, a bit louder than she intended. "I killed him in self defense. He had a gun pointed at me and was about to kill me."

"I'm sorry", he said, not knowing what the appropriate response was to this. He looked at her, feeling proud of her for standing up and killing Zemaray, something he would have done himself if he was in her place, but also worried since she could lose her job. He never wanted her to put her job on the line for him, or for anyone. He knew how much her work meant to her, he had been feeling the same about the army until he met Molly.

"Any advice?", she asked him, interrupting his trail of thoughts.

"I'm not the best person to ask advice from, especially on matters like that." When he saw her frowning her eyebrows, forming one line on her forehead, he explained: "I acted on personal feelings as well. Kissed Molly for the first time in a compound during a very dangerous mission."

Nathalie chuckled, shaking her head in disbelieve. "You kissed her during a mission. And here I thought I was the only idiot in the family, who suck at timing everything."

He leaned his head against the back of the couch, before he answered teasingly: "Are you criticizing my way of pursuing women?"

"You were never really good at that."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Of course, I'm right", she said, also teasing him. "I mean, you went for someone like Rebecca."

Now it was his turn to frown his eyebrows, surprised to hear Nathalie say that about his ex-wife. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, come on, Charles", she said, the volume of her voice slightly increasing. "She was never right for you. You might come from a posh, well-educated family, but you were never like that. That's why it works between you and Molly. She understands you better than Rebecca would, ever."

He smiled, because she was right. He made the wrong decision to actually marry someone like Rebecca, not being let by his true feelings, but more by what was expected from him. Back then he wasn't strong or stubborn enough to do his own thing, life the life he wanted instead of what was expected.

"Yeah, you're right about that too."

A cheeky smile appeared on Nathalie's face. "Maybe I should write that down. You've never admitted me being right so much."

"Shut up." She simply laughed, expressing her happiness in that one motion.

He turned and looked at her again, the teasing atmosphere leaving the room. "Still", he said. "Thank you for bringing my girl back. If you need anything, just let me know, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, brother."

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, what do you think about this chapter? I'm not quite sure about this… It was a bit of a struggle to write this, since I had a bit of writers block and I wanted to publish something..<strong>

**Also, thank you for the people who reviewed my last chapter, it means a lot to me :) **


	9. Chapter 9

The constant chatter of the room reached her ears, reminding her that she had wandered off to the land of thoughts and that she needed to come back. She looked around, taking in the faces of the James' family. Currently she was in the living room belonging to Edward, the eldest of the James' children and Charles' brother, celebrating the birthday of Edward's eldest child.

Molly took a sip from her drink, finishing all of the content before putting it on the coffee table in the middle of the room. She let both of her hands rest in her lap, while let her glance wander over the room's inhabitants, finally settling on the man a few feet away from her; Charles. She had felt so relieved after she finally told him about the kidnapping in Syria, even going as far as telling him about the torture.

She could still remember the way he looked at her. She would have expected him to be angry at the kidnapper, but instead he looked at her like he was experiencing the same pain as she had in that compound. Sometimes she felt like she didn't deserve a guy like him. Even after two years she still questioned sometimes what he saw in her, why he had chosen her and not a woman like Rebecca. She never really belonged in the world of first class foot, designer outfits and posh talking.

And here she was, surrounded by the family that took her in with open arms. Well, not everyone, but most of them did. She was especially welcomed by Charles' mother Olivia, whom had thanked her countless times for saving her son's life on that bridge. The woman always gave her a warm, radiating smile every time there was a family event.

"Molly." Her thoughts were interrupted when someone called her name. She looked at the person standing in front of her, identifying her immediately as Edward's wife Emma. "Can you hold her? I have to get her bottle." Before Molly even had the time to respond to the question, Emma slid the baby into her arms and then made her way towards the kitchen.

She took a deep breath, not daring herself to look at the baby just yet. She clenched her jaw tightly together, trying to get a hold of her emotions again. Here she was, sitting in the middle of a room, while holding the one thing she never was supposed to hold again; a baby. She blinked one more time, hoping that she could stop the tears, so they would go back to where they were; forgotten. Slowly she bowed her head, meeting the beautiful clear blue eyes of the baby. There was such innocence in that one look, that one look that could have brought her to her knees if she was standing.

This one thing, which was the result of an act of love between two people, was resting in her arms, trusting her not to let her fall. The arms that belonged to her, a person who had destroyed such a pure gift to mankind. She looked up when she saw movement coming from the doorway, noticing Nathalie coming into the living room after she had gone out to smoke her cigarette. When Nathalie saw her with the baby in her arms, she looked worried. Molly stood up and started to walk towards her sister in law.

"Take her, please", she pleaded to the brunette, desperation written all over her.

Nathalie knew exactly what was going through her at the moment. Apart from her mother she was the only one who knew. Nathalie had told her she found out by accident by reading her medical file from camp Fulmand after she had been rescued.

"Yeah, sure", she said, immediately taking the baby from her arms.

Molly walked straight to the garden, not bothering with the coldness that lingered outside of the house. The same coldness her heart once possessed after she had woken up, deprived from the love she once could feel and experience. Never did she think she could love someone, especially _him_ again.

She leaned against the brick wall, taking in deep breaths to calm herself down again and trying to control her emotions. She ran her hand through her hair, slightly re-adjusting it. She thought she could handle seeing baby's again, thought she had dealt with it, but nothing was further from the truth. She still felt guilty for losing the baby and of which she concluded that she would be a bad mother in the future, if she and Charles would go into that direction.

Her trail of thoughts was interrupted when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned her head, finding the calming colour of brown looking at her. "Hey", he said softly, while putting his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "You okay?"

"Yeah", she said. "Fine." She knew that he must have noticed that something was wrong, but he didn't push it. Not just yet. And maybe this time he didn't need to push her. Maybe it was time to tell him everything, literally everything.

* * *

><p>The drive home was only thirty minutes. Charles parked the car in front of their apartment, only he didn't move to exit the car. Instead he took the keys out of the ignition and looked at her.<p>

"What was up with you and the baby this afternoon?"

Slightly taken aback by his question, even though it was an question he was inevitably going to ask, she turned around to face him. When he saw the look in her eyes, he asked, worry evident in his voice: "What is it?" He covered her hand with his, hoping that it would encourage her to open up. "Tell me."

"I can't", her voice cracks, finally giving in to the emotions. "You're gonna hate me."

"I could never hate you", he said in a whisper, the words a silent promise and an underlying meaning that maybe everything was going to be alright.

"You will if I tell ya."

"Molly", he started, her name being spoken in the name of unconditional love. The love she sometimes still believed she didn't deserve. "Whatever you have done, I will never hate you. I promise."

His promise was sinking in her heart, giving the same warmth as his hands who still remained on hers. "I love you too much for that", he added, another attempt to win her over, pulling closer to the act of telling him truth.

"Really?"

"I'm still here, aren't I? After everything that happened I still _want_ to be here. I could never imagine being somewhere without you."

Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes. Words like that were never spoken to her. She only came across them in the movies she watched, where the night in shining armour swept the beautiful princess off her feet and them living happily ever after. She always thought that would never happen to her, since she didn't deserved that kind of love.

She let go of his hands, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. "Thank you for being you", she whispered in his ear.

After she had shed her fair amount of tears, she let go of him, now being ready to face him. She took a deep breath. He was waiting patiently in the driver's seat. "I was pregnant during tour."

His dark eyebrows momentarily find their position close to his hairline, before going back where they came from. "What?"

She fumbled nervously with the bottom of her coat, too afraid to look him in the eye. "I lost it because of the mission."

"And you have been carrying this ever since you're back?" He put one of his arms around her, before continuing, his voice containing much sympathy: "You suffered alone? Oh, Molls." His other arm also made its way around her, pulling her into a warm, loving hug.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, their frequent breathing made the only sound in the car. Slowly she felt the weight of carrying that secret with her drifting away, hopefully to be forgotten forever.

"Why would I hate you for this?", he said, breaking the silence that reigned between them. "You didn't know some nutter was going to kidnap you."

She chuckled, a response to him using the word _nutter_. He had been using some of the words she always said, clearly she was rubbing off on him. "Why are you laughing?", he asked.

"You said nutter", she said, while making eye contact. By the way he was looking at her at the moment, she could tell that he was thinking back to the same moment as she was; the first time she met the captain, where she laughed at his use of the word cockwomble. A word she had only come across at at school.

He kissed her on the top of the head, the seriousness of the conversation returning, dominating the atmosphere in the car. "You didn't know about the pregnancy, did you?"

She untangled herself from his grip, leaning back against the car seat. "Not exactly", she spoke softly. "I didn't have my period the month before tour, but I just thought it was the stress."

"So, you didn't know", he stated. He cupped her face, his raw hands touching the delicate skin of her face, while he slightly caressed it with his thumbs. He made her look him in the eye, like he wanted the words to be received in the way he meant them; in the most delicate manner. "You are not to blame here, Molly. It wasn't your fault."

"The thought of being pregnant popped into my head. Just didn't act on it."

"So, you didn't know", he said again, probably hoping that he would finally get through to her. He must have know that she felt guilty. That she felt like she had killed that baby; their baby.

"That's why I have been so distant", she explained her previous behaviour. "I thought I didn't deserve you after I killed our child."

"Oh, Molls", he said, sighted, letting go of her face to pull her close one more time. "I wished you said something sooner."

"I'm sorry."

He put his index finger under her chin, lifting it so she could look at him in an appropriate way. "Believe me when I say this. I'm not like those cockwombles you've date before. I'm not going to run when things get tough. That means I would turn my back on the most amazing and important thing in my life."

He looked at her, not once breaking the eye contact. "You", he added, only this one syllable came out in a whisper.

Another amount of tears started to form in the corner of her eyes, finally being released and streaming down her face. Only this time they were not being shed in the name of sorrow or pain. It was in the name of happiness. "I am the most amazing thing in your life?"

"Sometimes I wish I could beat the shit out of those guys for making you doubt you deserve happiness."

"Sorry", she said apologetic.

"Not your fault, darling. Just know that I love you and I always will. Okay?"

Compassion had filled his eyes, being combined with his last words left an indescribable, warm feeling in her heart. She would never forget what he had said to her, always keeping those words in her heart, reminding her just exactly _how_ much she was loved by him.

She closed the gap between them, pressing her lips onto his while she made a promise to remain in this position for life. She never wanted to let go. She wanted to hold on to him forever. The effect he had on her when his tongue touched hers… She couldn't explain. Not Artan, not anyone had ever made her feel like he did.

Finally both of them had to let go, catching their breaths. "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Don't ever keep anything from me, because you're afraid I'm going to hate you."

She smiled, intertwining her fingers into his, making them one. "I promise, really." Like their intertwined hands presented; they were a team. They were going to do this together and she would never once keep something like this from him.

They made their way inside, taking their coats of before he guided her towards the bedroom. The love was still present in his eyes, only she thought she detected some hint of lust as well. When they reached the bedroom his started to kiss her, his hands on her back. Carefully they made their way under the shirt she was wearing. She could finally let him touch her with love, because his love was stronger than the damage someone else's hands once did to her. They were stronger than this and were going to get through this. She was sure of it.

* * *

><p><strong>And as always, a big thank you to the people who have reviewed the last chapter. I really love reading them! So thanks… I hope you have enjoyed this chapter as well and to share your enthusiasm in a review would make my day! <strong>

**So, the story almost comes to an end. To be honest, I only have an idea for an epilogue, unless you have some great suggestions for me. Feel free to let me know, maybe I can write a few more chapters.. **


	10. Chapter 10

The music coming from the radio reached her ears, making her body move to the beat the song possessed. She moved around the kitchen, occasionally stirring in one of the pan's before her.

_Oh, written in the stars _

_A million miles away _

_A message to the main_

_Ooooh_

She was singing at the top of her lungs, not caring if the singing was very off key. She was home alone, giving her the freedom to do just that.

_Seasons come and go_

_But I will never change_

_And I'm on my way _

The part of the rapping started, making her move around the entire kitchen. It had been a long time since she had danced like that to a song. The last time she could remember was before her last tour, when she was out with a couple of girls she met during her basic training. They were in desperate need to blow off some steam before going back on tour.

She made a few pirouette, not as beautiful as the ballerina's but it sort of looked like that. Swirling her body around something that wasn't there a few seconds ago caught her eye, making her jump. When she noticed it was Charles watching her, she sighted in relieve. "Bloody hell", she said. "You almost gave me a Julius Seizure."

"You've got moves, Dawes", he said, smirking, while he was leaning against the doorway. He clearly enjoyed her dancing very much.

She simply chuckled, wiggling her eyebrows before she turned around, giving the pots and pans, full of delicious food, her undivided attention. "Thought you weren't gonna be comin' home 'til late?"

"I could just go back in the car and wait 'til late?", he said, mocking her Cockney slang, repeating the last couple of words in the same way she said them. In the reflection of the windows, who were positioned just next to the stove, she saw him move closer to her.

He wrapped one of his arms around her waist while he tried to eat some of the food out of the cooking pan. "Oi", she said, slapping him on his greedy fingers. "Hands off!"

He took a few steps backwards, letting go of her waist while lifting his hands in surrender. "Doesn't matter now", she said. "Just go upstairs and change."

He frowned his eyebrows. "Change?", he asked. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" He gave his clothes an one's over, but stayed with his latest conclusion. He still couldn't find anything wrong with his clothes. He was wearing a striped shirt with a pair of worn out jeans.

She simply smirked, imagining the moment when that pair of jeans became worn out. They were on holiday in Ireland, walking in one of the beautiful forests when all of a sudden she had a graving for an amazing make-out session. Little did she know that it would turn out like that.

"Why the fuck are you smirking?", he asked.

She shrugged, a cheeky smile appearing on her face. "Nothin'."

He made his way over to her again, when he started to kiss her in the neck. Every time his lips moved to another place, they left behind a cold trace, longing to be touched by him again. His arms made it around her waist, slowly finding their way under the t-shirt she was wearing. She could stay here forever, never leaving that position in the kitchen.

But there was work to do. If he was not going to stop, they would have to order take out; the food would burn. "Charles", she tried stopping him, but without an effect. She elbowed him in the stomach, indicating that this would have to wait. "Stop distracting me. Go upstairs and change."

She turned around, only to be met with a disappointed looking Charles. She smiled, since this reminded her of the way her brothers and sisters tried to pout, desperately trying to avoid going to school. She turned him around and gave him a small push towards the hallway. "Wear your sexy shirt", she added.

"What is my sexy shirt exactly?"

"The black and white one."

He looked at her with confusion in his eyes, but also a smile evident on his face. "Could you be more specific, Dawes?"

"You know", she said, trying her best to explain it to him. "The one we bought in Dublin, when we were there that weekend."

"Still don't have a clue."

"The one with the silver buttons", she said, another attempt to explain it to him.

"Silver buttons?", he asked, confirming she failed at explaining what she meant. "All my shirts have silver buttons."

"No, they don't", she argued. "Some of them are white, off white or even black. Not the same as silver."

"Still can't follow."

She seemed to have lost him completely. He still had no clue whatsoever which shirt she meant. Maybe she should have just put it on the bed for him. "Well, then", she said, looking at him from head to toe, taking in his incredible handsomeness, before licking her lips. "Surprise me."

He smiled at her as well. "I'll just see if I can find my sexy lingerie than, shall I?"

She shook her head, while turning around, making sure the food would still be eatable. "Fucking twat", she said, the volume of her voice low, but still loud enough for him to hear.

"If you're continuing like that, I'm not going to show you my sexy underwear."

She laughed at his comment. Oh, how she had missed these kind of moments. She was so caught up in everything that happened in Syria that she had forgotten how to enjoy life again. She had experienced so much sorrow that she thought she would never life live the way she should. Thought that she never experienced Charles' love like she did before, like it would become hallow inside, losing its original purpose.

But luckily enough Charles was so patience with her that eventually she had to tell him the truth. She wanted to let him in again, since she was beginning to feel a bit lonely without him. He had always been there for her, encouraging her when she didn't have faith in her abilities or love her when she needed just that.

He had been so amazing these last couple of months that she wanted to thank him for his effort, for his love for her. So she had decided to cook him dinner and show him how much he meant to her later this night.

* * *

><p>After they had eaten together, they had snuggled up in front of the TV. She rested her head against his chest, finding salutary peace in the frequent beating of his heart. She closed her eyes, breathing in his signature scent, party consisting of his Paco Rabanne One Million cologne.<p>

How could a girl like her, born and raised in one of London's toughest neighborhoods end up with a guy like Charles? He was everything she could ever dream off. When she was dating Artan, it reminded her that she didn't deserve a guy like Charles. She only deserved guys like Artan, who said he loved her but still slept around like it didn't mean anything. And here she was, lying in the arms of an amazing man, who only used to be appearing in her dreams or in the movies she watched. He was real, very real.

She opened her eyes again, looking at him. He must have noticed her looking at him, since he turned his head to meet her gaze. She smiled softly. "Just wanna say thank you for being all patient with me and that", she said, not once looking at the flickering lights of the TV in front of them.

He put his head on her cheek, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I wanted to", he said, also a smile appearing on his face.

"I know, but you never had to."

He pulled her closer, kissing her on the top of her head. "I love you, Molly", he said, his eyes filling with an indescribable amount of love. Love that was only meant for her and only for her to receive. "And I never want to let you go."

She kissed him briefly on the lips, the warmth of the love she saw in his eyes being transmitted, spreading across the rest of her body, making her feel whole again. "Ditto", she whispered.

That one syllable had such meaning to them. One simple word that got a deep meaning during their first time in Afghanistan. Back then she never thought that it would sum up their entire relationship, everything that they had build in these last couple of years. That one word she had cherished in her heart, never letting it go.

"Oh, by the way", he said, interrupting her happy thoughts. "Mum called this afternoon, asking if we wanted to come on a family holiday in December."

She frowned her eyebrows. She never that a James' family holiday existed. "She's all exited", he continued. "Haven't done that in quite some time. She said she wanted to start a new tradition, especially after what happened to you."

"What about me?"

"It reminded her of how important family is. So, I figured we could go."

"What sort of holiday?", she asked. She had been on a few holiday's with him to place she never thought she would have visited. She remembered their road trip through Scotland and Ireland last summer. She had seen the most beautiful spots in the world. Well, according to her at least.

He shrugged. "Somewhere in Switzerland. We used to go skiing there, so she wanted to do that again."

"I can't ski", she said, in the same manner as she once said she couldn't drive.

"And here you are, handling any weapon they put into your hands. How convenient", he teased her.

She hit him in the stomach. "Shut up."

"So, you want to go?"

"Yeah, sure. I mean, why not?", she said. To be quite honest, she was looking forward to seeing the beautiful mountains of Switzerland, imagining how amazing they would look covered in a thick layer of snow. "As long as you teach me how to ski."

"Done", he said, before pressing his lips on hers.

* * *

><p>She stepped through the gangway, giving her access to the Geneva airport. She looked around through the window, seeing mountains covered in snow for the very first time. She must have looked like a child getting the best gift during Christmas, because Charles chuckled at her reaction. But she didn't care.<p>

The mountains had looked so beautiful from the plane, even more beautiful when they landed on Geneva Airport. For some reason she had a feeling that the white of the snow represented a new beginning for her. It felt like that for her when she was catching snowflakes in the garden; the moment where she had a snow ball fight with him, which led to her kissing him for the first time ever since she was back from Syria.

And now she was in Switzerland, her parents and nan completely jealous of her since they never went there, taking in its beautiful nature.

They made their way through the airport, her hand in Charles', leading her towards the exit. There was a mini-van waiting for them to take them to the hotel they were staying at. "You're drooling, Dawesy", she heard Nathalie say behind her, before patting her on the back. "Time to close your mouth."

She laughed, before taking a seat in the mini-van, closely followed by Charles.

* * *

><p><strong>I still can't believe how many reviews I got from last chapters. Thank you very much for reviewing it! And I hope you liked this chapter as well. I wanted to treat you guys on some great Molly and Charles fluff, to give them some happy time with all the heartbreak and that. <strong>

**I am extending this story a bit, taking in the suggestion that were left behind in the review section. I have some ideas for where this should go, so I figure at least 2 or 3 chapters before I post the epilogue. I'm not going to drag this story out, it would get boring, I think. **

**But don't worry, my muse most definitely won't leave me alone, even giving me ideas for an AU story. Still brainstorming about that, so hopefully I can post some of that when I'm finished with this story. **

**And if anyone wants to know the song Molly is singing to in the beginning of the chapter, it's Tinie Tempah – Written in the stars ;) **

**Alright, done rambling. Review away haha :) **


	11. Chapter 11

"Are you ready?", Charles asked, amusement written all over his face. She took a few deep breaths, taking in her current environment. She was standing on top of the mountain, well at least part of it, she thought to herself, the ski's attached to the matching boots. She could see the rest of the mountains in front of her, the snow glowing under the ray of sunshine, giving it the magical touch it needed.

She still hadn't got used to the beautiful landscape of Switzerland, even going as far as to stand on the balcony, which was attached to the room she and Charles were staying at, for more than an hour. When the mini-van had dropped them off, she saw that they weren't staying at some hotel or resort. They were actually staying at a big chalet, which was just for them. It was like she was in that Chalet Girl movie, only she wouldn't have to work. She was a guest in that house.

She shook off the thoughts of last night and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. She looked at Charles, who was looking really confident on his ski's. "I'm shittin' myself", she said. This morning she had a private skiing lesson for two hours from one of those skiing schools close to the slopes and now it was the time to show what she had actually learned.

"You'll be alright, Dawes", he said. "I promised I'd learn you how to ski, so that's what I'm going to do."

"You don't mind?", she asked.

"I promised, didn't I?", he said, before gesturing for her to come down. They were currently standing at the beginning of the beginners slope. "Now, let's go."

She breathed in one more time before moving her ski's down the mountain. Slowly she started to move, while she saw Charles in the corner of her eyes, following her in the same pace she currently going. She was going faster and faster and quite soon she didn't have control over the ski's anymore. She tried to turn her ski's, but apparently they had a mind of their own, doing exactly the opposite of that; it only made her go faster.

"Charles!", she yelled, the fear slowly creeping up on her, like it was hidden in the dark shadows behind the street corner of one of the roads in London during night. How the bleedin' hell was she going to slow down? She couldn't just hit the brake like she would do on her bike.

"Put the ski's horizontal. It slows you down!"

"I don't know what the fuck that means!" Fear was taking control over her, since she still her speed was accelerating. She had to do something, so she did the only thing she could think off. She let herself fall down on the snow, making her stop from moving down the mountain.

She expected to be falling on some soft snow, instead she felt a pair of ski's stinging into her back, causing pain to shot thought her body. Apparently Charles was closer than she originally thought and she couldn't stop herself from landing completely on top of him. "Sorry", she said, apologetic but also cheeky at the same time. They must have looked absolutely ridiculous.

She looked at him, making eye contact with the man who was supposed to teach her how to ski. Oh, what a joke! She couldn't ski, nor would she ever be as good as the rest of those damned skiers. It's hardly fair they get to be that good, when she falls flat on her back every time she tried. Must have driven that instructor crazy, she thought back to the lessons.

She chuckled, which turned into audible laughter. "I suck at skiing", she said, shaking her head while she tried to untangle herself from him. "It's even worse than me drivin'."

"I agree", he simply said, like he was mocking her. Oh, he was definitely taking the piss out of her right now.

"Oi", she said, throwing a bit of snow into his face. "You're supposed to be a gent and tell me that I ain't that bad."

His eyebrows temporarily shot up to his hairline, before returning to the position where they belonged. "You drive like shit, Dawes", he said, also throwing a bit of snow into her direction. "My poor beamer found that out the hard way."

"It was only a small scratch", she defended herself, while demonstrating with her finger how _tiny_ that scratch was exactly. "Very, very tiny." When she came back from her second tour, turning up at his parent's house to surprise, he taught her how to drive. It turned out to be a massive disaster, even going as far as she hit another car with the outside mirror.

He simply laughed, making another attempt to get her of off him, when they heard a familiar voice behind them. A few moments later Nathalie stopped next to them, while letting her skiing goggles rest on her forehead. "I don't want to sound like a know-it-all", she said, cheeky smile present on her face. "But you usually ski standing up straight. Not sliding down the slopes together."

She frowned, while continuing to mock their current state. "But if you find that romantic, please… Carry on."

Charles displayed his polite smile, well that's what she called it when he was trying to be all serious and that, while he said: "Well, since you're here", he said, slightly pushing Molly of off him and extending his hand to Nathalie. "Give us a hand."

"Massive cockwombles", Nathalie muttered, while she helped them both to their feet. She shook off the snow that was still attached to them, before Nathalie started to ski down again.

"Shall we give it another go, Dawes?", he asked.

She turned to him, putting on the ridiculous looking goggles on again. "Why the fuck not, Boss…", she said before moving down the slopes, closely followed by Charles.

* * *

><p>The darkness that the evening brought with them surrounded the chalet family James was currently staying at. They had finished their dinner and were relaxing in the living room, the flames of open fireplace dancing around in their little space, giving the room perfect glow.<p>

Their adventure on the slopes this afternoon turned out better than she expected. After a few falls down on the backside she started to get the hang of skiing, even once managing to get down the slopes without falling. A great achievement, she thought.

"Seriously, Nat", she heard Edward say. "What could possibly lead to a suspension?" She must have dozed off or had been in such deep thought that she hadn't noticed the change in conversation.

"Edward", Charles said, the underlying warning evident in his voice. She was leaning back on the couch, her head slightly against Charles' shoulder. In the corner of her eyes she saw that Charles' mother Olivia had a worried look on her face, before looking at the one that was being accused; Nathalie. The brunette was still sitting in one of the comfortable chairs, her face tense, not showing any emotion.

"I mean", Edward continued, not listening to the warning that was given him. "You only translate the things that are being said. How could you ever screw something like that up?"

"You don't know anything", she snapped. In moments like these she was happy that she didn't have to hide her job from her family. She wasn't allowed to say what she actually did on tour, but at least she could tell them she was a medic. She didn't have to lie about that.

Edward chuckled while he shook his head in disbelieve, like his previous words didn't mean anything at all. "Well, it has you written all over it, Nathalie."

"And what exactly are you trying to say, eh?", Nathalie said, slightly leaning forward, giving her older brother her full attention. The stony look that she had displayed on her face, was gone. Her face showed the first cracks of anger.

"Nothing."

"Maybe you need to learn how to shut up for once in your life", she said, pointing her finger at him when she said the word _you_.

"What do-…"

She interrupted her brother, her voice raised in anger. "No, for once don't respond. Don't have your _fucking_ political answer at the ready. You need to shut up when you don't know the details."

"Children, please", Olivia tried to smooth thing over, but the attempt was in vain.

"Just forget it, mum", she said, standing up from the chair she had been occupying and making her way towards the front door.

"Well done, Eddy", Charles said sighting. Edward threw his hands in the air, like he was showing that he didn't do anything wrong. But it was far from that. It must have been hard for Nathalie, thinking that she could lose her job like that. She didn't know what to do without the army. Without the army she would have never found the happiness that was currently present in her life. She would turn out exactly like her mum, a house full of children and a stupid, lazy man as her husband.

She stood up. "I'm gonna go after her", she said to Charles, who simply nodded. She took the few steps forward, before opening the front door. Shivers were running down her spine when the cold of the night hit her face, then her entire body. Small clouds formed in front of her face every time she breathed out, like she was smoking a bloody cigarette.

She noticed that Nathalie had taken a seat on one of the wooden benches, positioned against the wooden walls of the chalet. She walked towards her, silently taking a seat next to her sister in law. "You alright?"

Nathalie sniffled, like she had been crying. "Yeah, alright." The brunette turned her head, the traces the tears left behind visible in the small light provided by the moon. "He doesn't know what he's saying. Sometimes these things hurt, you know?"

She nodded. She could, sort off, understand. When she had told her parents she was going to join the army, she wasn't getting the support she had hoped for. Of course, she didn't expect her parents to be jumping for joy, but still… A little support would come a long way. "Sorry", she simply said.

"Not your fault."

"It does feel like it", she confessed. "I mean, you would never be here if it weren't for me."

"It's not your fault, Molly", Nathalie answered, her voice soft in the rustle of the wind. "You never forced me to make that choice. I made it, fully aware of the consequences."

"But I-" Molly sputtered.

Nathalie held up her hand, interrupting her. "No", she said strongly, putting both her hands on either of Molly's shoulders while looking her in the eye. "Don't feel guilty. I won't let you. It's not your fault, any of it. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Good", she said with a small smile on her face. She let go of Molly's shoulders and continued: "Now, be a dear and get me some scotch. Been dying for a drink ever since my stupid brother opened his mouth."

"Yes, ma'am." She stood up and saluted her sister in law, who simply laughed at her mocking. Not a few moments later Molly came back with two glasses and the bottle of scotch, quickly pouring both of them a drink. They toasted, the touching of the glasses made a familiar noise, before downing the first shot.

They quickly filled the glasses again, when they heard the front door crack. With a soft bang the door closed behind Edward, who was now standing in the cold. Nathalie didn't say anything, simply downed another amount of the amber coloured liquor.

"What are you doing?", he asked. He noticed the bottle and added: "Right, should have figured that one out."

Nathalie simply ignored her brother, downing yet another shot of whiskey. "You're setting a very good example, Nathalie", he continued when his sister didn't respond. She couldn't quite describe the look on his face, but it looked a lot like he was judging her, like he was better than her. "Getting drunk on a family holiday. Excellent."

"Just fuck off, Eddy. Go and be interesting somewhere else."

"Don't use that kind of language around here", he said shocked, like he never heard anyone curse before. "The children might here you."

"Right, nothing can get in the away of your political career", Nathalie said sarcastically. "Well, I'm not a puppet who's gonna dance to your tune."

"There is no reasoning with you when you're in this state. I'm going back in. We'll talk tomorrow."

Edward made his way back inside while Nathalie muttered under her breath: "Un –fucking- likely."

She poured them another shot of whiskey, only this time she took a few sips of it instead of downing it. Molly also took a sip from the scotch, feeling the alcoholic liquid gliding down her throat. "Has it always been like this?", Molly asked after a few moments of silence, complete silence. Not the silence she experienced in London, when there was always the noise of traffic and other people disturbing your thoughts.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Must've been hard."

Nathalie shrugged her shoulders. "I guess", she said. "Luckily I had Charles, still have. That makes the things a lot easier."

"And now you have me too", Molly said, before bursting into laughter, finding her joke very funny.

"Lovely", Nathalie answered sarcastically.

"Shut up."

Silence came between them again, reigned the atmosphere between them. The light side of the conversation disappeared into the dark corners, into the unknown of the shadows, while being replaced by the seriousness of the earlier conversation.

"Edward and I never got along", she admitted. "I mean… I drink, I smoke, I curse like a fucking trooper and my body's covered in tattoo's. Not exactly what a politician wants for a sister."

"We all have family we ain't ever wishin' we had", she said, understanding dominated the tone of her voice. She did understand what it was like to feel ashamed for the family she got. She wasn't always proud to admit who her dad really was, especially not when she had to talk in front of those recruits during one of the selection rounds.

"Well, I refuse to change so he can get ahead in his career. I'd be lying if I did." She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. "Exactly why I find politicians such hypocrites."

Molly chuckled. "And yet you work for the government."

"Clever one, Dawesy", Nathalie said, shaking her head while a smile appeared on her face.

* * *

><p><strong>Another big thank you for the one who have reviewed the last chapter. I am glad you are enjoying this and it would be very lovely if everyone would review this chapter. It would be very nice to hear what you think about this story.<strong>

**So, I have one more chapter for this and then the epilogue. Then, unfortunately, this story will come to an end. **

**Hope you have enjoyed this, and a review would be very, very nice :) So, please, push that little button underneath the story and review away! **


	12. Chapter 12

The sun was beaming through the trees, who we once covered by a mixture of red, orange and yellow caused by the autumn. Now their branches were only moved by a gust of wind. Molly intertwined her fingers with those of Charles, her snow boots making a soft, squeaky noise on the snow covered pavement. It was late in the afternoon when Charles suggested they would go for a walk, just get some quality time together. That way he said it was probably just to tease her about that moment where she first told him she was "fond" off him.

She had been improving her skiing over the last couple of days, even going as far as skiing down the mountain without falling down. She thought it was a great achievement, jokingly she said to Charles that she wanted to try and drive again. His shocked response made her laugh even more. She had been enjoying the snow covered mountaintops, drinking hot coco in front of the fireplace, the whole après ski thing and the family diners. After that little argument between Nathalie and Edward, they had talked and now there was peace between them.

"This has been proper nice", she said, breaking the silence between them. Both of them were occupied by their thoughts, not wanting to spoil the moment where they were enjoying the silence. She had come quite accustomed by the silence provided by the Swiss Alps, loving the chirping of the birds she never heard before. Not that she could ever, since the only places of the world she had seen were Syria, Afghan, London and Bath.

She released his hand, which disappeared into his coat pocket while she slid her hand through the opening his arm created. "I'm glad you liked it", he said smiling.

She smiled as well. It had been such a great week, something she had really needed. She had walked around in her life, wandered aimlessly and thought she had nowhere to go. But she was wrong, so incredibly wrong. The one person that helped her find purpose again in life. The one person that had been so patient with her, while slowly helping her recover. Her therapist had been right all along; it did help to involve Charles into the healing process.

"Charles?", she asked. When he looked at her, she said: "I love you, you know."

He stopped walking, slightly taken aback by her last words. His eyes were filled with love, that familiar colour of brown looking at her like he always did. "Ditto", he whispered, cupping her face with his gloved hands before kissing her on the lips. His lips were warm onto her, so opposite from the atmosphere that surrounded them.

He let go of her face, his hands finding hers before he covered them with his. "I came back", she also whispered. "I will always come back to ya."

He smiled. "I'm glad you did." He kissed her again, only this time it was a mixture of love and longing for one another. Longing to be held in each other's arms, feel each other's hot breath on their skin while slowly becoming one person. "You have no idea how happy I am that I've got back", he confessed, sadness momentarily crossing his face, before leaving again. Hopefully it would slid in forgetfulness, so it could never be found again.

"I'm sorry for what I put you through. I've been treatin' very bad."

He caressed her cheek. "PTSD does strange things to someone", he said. "But we came through it. It only made us stronger. It made my love grow for you even more."

"Really?", she asked, surprise present in her voice.

"Yeah. Not a lot of people can stand where you stand today, or can overcome what you've been through." He placed his hands on both of her shoulder and started to look her straight in the eyes. "These last couple of months made me realise something. Something very important."

She frowned her eyebrows, slightly surprised by the fact that Charles, usually a very confident man, all of a sudden got nervous. He cleared his throat, something he always did when he was starting to get nervous, mostly in attempt to control these damned nerves. He let go of her shoulders, putting his hands back into his pockets before he continued: "There has been something I wanted to ask you."

Now it was her time start getting a little nervous. "There is?", she asked.

"Well, I was planning on asking you when you came back from tour", he confessed. "But, you know, it wasn't the right time then."

The nerves were partly taking control over her, even going as far as to intervene with the steadiness of her voice. "And now is the right time?"

Charles hesitated, trying to find the right words to use in this situation. She was getting a little anxious too. "Come on", she said, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Just say it. I'm dyin' here."

"Molly?" He got his hands out of his pockets, searching for hers. When he found them, he intertwined their fingers, making them one. Something that symbolized them at the moment. They became one again after the struggle of those last months. Yes, they were different from before she went on tour, but that didn't mean they were worse. In fact, she thought, they were even better than before.

"Yeah?", she said anxiously, yet carefully at the same time.

"I love you more than anything in the world", he started, while he let go of one of her hands, before grabbing something in his pocket. She had a feeling where this might go. He was going to ask her something, something that would change her life forever.

He let go of her other hand, kneeling down on one knee, his trousers touching the white, delicate snow. "Molly Dawes, would you do me the great honour of marrying me?" He opened the red velvet box, showing an engagement ring. The ring shone in the bright sunlight, making the diamond sparkle, the different colours dancing around it.

Tears started to form in her eyes, while she covered her amazement by putting both her hands in front of her opened mouth. She was swallowing her tongue right now. She always had a quick remark ready to aim at someone, but now… Now she was speechless and Molly Dawes was never speechless.

"Yes", she whispered, before she repeated the word again, only this time louder. "Yes, absolutely!". A bright smile appeared on Charles' face and she even thought she detected a little relieve flashed over his face as well. He stood up, slipping the ring on her finger. She felt the cold metal touch her skin, but instead of shivering, she felt a warm feeling spread across her body. This ring symbolized one of the few things that was actually perfect in her life.

But this ring symbolized something even more important to her. This ring was a sign of new beginnings. It provided the closure of a bad chapter and the opportunity of opening a new, better chapter in her life. This was her clean slate, so to speak.

She threw her arms around Charles, kissing him on the lips. This was perfect. Her life was perfect again and she had to thank this incredible man for that.

* * *

><p>They closed the door of the chalet behind them, being met with the warm temperatures that lingered around here. After walking for another half hour they were getting a bit cold and decided to return back to the chalet. They hung their coats on the hat rack before walking to the living room.<p>

Her feet were touching the delicate beige carpet flooring, making her way towards the fireplace. She frowned her dark eyebrows when she noticed three people with too familiar hair colour and body shape. She identified them as her mother, father and nan. They were here in Switzerland in the chalet. How was that even possible?

"Mum? Dad?", she said, not attempting to hide her surprise. "What are ya doin' here?"

Her mother walked towards them, pulling them both into a hug. She had been wearing a radiant smile, like she shining like the sun would on a warm day. "He called", she said, pointing at Charles. "Sayin' he was gonna pop the question."

"You what?" Her surprise was getting bigger and bigger by the moment. "Who said I was gonna say yes?", she teased him.

"Well, that would have been awkward." She simply laughed at his comment, while she kissed him on the cheek.

Her father stepped forward, wearing his West-Ham shirt with a dark sweater draped across it. "Now, show me that shiner then, eh Molly!", he said. She could sense a bit of pride in his voice, although he would never admit it. In those last couple of years, ever since she joined the army, she was getting closer to her father.

She never would forget that moment when they were outside the pub with Katie when he threatened her, ordering her to marry Artan. He had become so proud of her, especially after she received the Military Cross. She was happy that she had a father in her life again after he had gone for so many years. He even got a job somewhere on a construction site.

She took her hand out of her jeans pocket and showed the ring to her family. "Oi, Dave", her mother exclaimed. "Told ya he was a keeper!" She heard Charles chuckle in the background.

"Yeah, alright." Her nan didn't say anything, she simply nodded while she winked at her.

In the background Olivia came walking into the living room, holding a tray of champagne glasses. "I think it's time for a celebration." Olivia was also wearing this radiant smile on her face. Maybe it was a way that mothers looked when one of their children was going to leave the nest for good. Well, in some way or another. She and Charles had been living together for more than a year now, but now they were going to officially promise, in front of their loved ones, that they would love each other until death.

Her lips formed a smile on her face. This had been one of the happiest moments in her life. She would never, ever forget this. She, Molly Dawes, a once stupid girl from East London, had turned her life upside down and found all the happiness she deserved. And no-one was going to take that away from her.

* * *

><p><em>Two years later<em>

"Molly, Molly!", Sam yelled, while he came running towards her. She was lying on her back on blanket they usually used for picnic's, her hand protectively on her already showing bump. She had been pregnant for about six months and to be honest, she couldn't wait to hold this bundle of joy in her arms.

She sat up straight, smiling at the young boy running towards her. After those part couple of years she had really started to care about Charles' son and even going as far as considering him as one of her own children.

"Yeah sweetie?", she said after he had finally reached her. He knelt down beside her, his hands mysteriously behind his back while he beamed with utter joy. Behind him he revealed a small wooden box. She took it from his extending hands while she inspected all the small engravings.

"You made this?"

He nodded, his eyes wide in excitement. "Daddy helped."

"I love it, mate. It's great", she said while she pulled him into a hug, kissing him on the forehead. She thought his smile couldn't get any bigger, but yet that was exactly what he was showing. The white colour of his teeth reflecting the ray of sunshine.

"Look inside it." She opened the wooden box, finding a bright coloured yellow rubber duck. "Bought it with my pocket money with mummy."

The radiating smile he still possessed also contained a bit of pride. Sam had been so excited when she and Charles shared the news with him. That he was going to have a baby brother or sister. "For the new baby", he added while he glanced at her belly.

Tears started to form in her eyes, before she pulled him into another hug. "Thank you, Sammy. Thank you."

"You like it?"

"Are you kiddin' me? I love it!", she exclaimed, kissing him on the forehead once more. "This is perfect, Sammy. Really."

He didn't respond to her words, but simply turned around and walked to his father. Charles had come walking out of the shed he used to do odd jobs. "Daddy!", Sam yelled. "She loved it."

Charles smiled, before high fiving his still radiant son. "That's great, scamp. Now, go inside and do your homework."

"Yes, daddy", he nodded, before making his way inside the house. After they had decided to try and extent the James' family, they moved to a different house. The house they lived in Bath was a bit small if they wanted to start a family.

Charles made his way towards her and laid down next to her on the picnic blanket. She rested her head against his chest, while she felt him kissing the top of her head. "I couldn't be more happier", she said. "Never thought it would ever happen to me."

He smiled, while putting one of her brown locks behind her ear. That one gesture he always made when he was completely and utterly happy. "I love you", he said, his eyes filled with the same love as the words he just pronounced.

"Ditto. Bleedin' ditto." She closed the distance between them, putting her lips on his. Showing him exactly how much she loved him.

* * *

><p><strong>First, I want to apologize for the late update. I have been so incredibly busy with school and everything that I didn't have the time to update the chapter. I also have decided to end the story here, since I saw a slight decrease in interest and to be honest, I think the story is pretty much done. I don't want to drag this out.<strong>

**And secondly, I want to thank everyone that has been reviewing last chapter. A special thanks to the ones who have pretty much reviewed every chapter, so thank you very, very much for that. Your reviews keep me writing. **

**But not to worry. I have come up with another plot for my next story, so you're not rid of me just yet! But it needs some research, so I hope I can update that very soon. As long as you'll be patient with me. **

**Anyway, thanks again and until next time! **


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